77 



kiBRARY OF CONGRESS. # 



t [SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT.] 

# 

^UNITED STATES OF AMERICA J 



^-X-.-' 



FAME: 



AND 



OTHER POEMS. 



BV 



BARNARD SHIPP. 




PHILADELPHIA: 
PUBLISHED BY E. H. BUTLER & CO. 

-. 1848. 



?z4 



Pj5 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, 

By Barnard Shipp, 

In tiie Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District 
of Pennsylvania. 



C. SHERMAN, PRINTER, 

19 St. James Street. 



PREFACE. 



Though the Poems contained in this volume have been 
composed for several years, yet no attempt to revise them 
was made until the resolution to publish had been formed ; 
when circumstances did not permit that attention to them 
which their deficiencies require ; and when time and 
events, apparently propitious, do not admit of the delaying 
of the publication, without the loss of that interest which 
the Poems may derive from the recollections of the past, 
the developments of the present, and the anticipations of 
the future. 

Extracts from •• Rottoc's General History," &c., varied from 
the originals no more than was necessary to put them 
into the form of Notes, have been annexed at the end of 
the text, in order to illustrate the Poems. 

Philadelphia, August 9th, 1848. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Fame - - ' . . . . .9 

Fayette - - . .' . . . . 32 

Cosmopolis - - - - . . - 53 

The Contrast ------ 61 

The Hopeless - - - . . - 67 

Reflections . - - ... . 72 

Greece and America - . . . - 75 

Time ....... 73 

God's Mercy . . . . . - 80 

The Soul's Destiny ----- 82 

Grace - . . . . . - 84 

Vanity of Earthly Ties - .... 85 

The Tomb -.-.-.. 87 

Howard ...... gg 

William ....... 9] 

Twilight ...... 93 

Communion with Nature - - - . - 95 

Book of Nature - - - . - 98 



VI CONTENTS. 

Page 

Death of Benjamin Howard VVickliffe - . - 101 

Death of a Lady of Lexington, Kentucky - - 106 

Death of a Lady of Cynthiana, Kentucky - - - 109 

To James Tooley, of Natchez - - - - 111 

To Edward H. Van Wyck, of New York City - - 115 

The Moon - - - - - . 117 

The Pyramids - - - - . -119 

Reinterment of Napoleon - . » . . 122 

Queen of the Ocean • . - . - 125 

Heroes of the Revolution .... 127 

The Hero of the Hermitage - . . .130 

Andrew Jackson - . - . - 133 

Colonel William Robertson M'Kee . . .135 

First Regiment of Mississippi Volunteers - . 137 

Beautiful Eyes - . . . . .140 

Beautiful One . . - - . . 142 
Carrie ....... 144 

Sweet Laura, of Thee I . . . . 146 

Laura - - - • - . - 148 

Mary ....... 150 

Isabel ---.... 152 

Anna's Departure . - . . . 154 

To Carrie - . . - . . - 156 

White Rosebud ..... 159 

To Fanny . . - - . . - 160 



CONTENTS. Vll 

PAGE 

The Chinquepin Grove - - - . . 162 

To a Coquette - . - . . - 164 

To Miss E a C 1, of St. Louis - - . 160 

Blue Eyes - - . . . . - 169 

A Dream - - . . . . 170 

On Leaving Natchez . - . . - 173 

On Leaving Lexington .... 175 

Home of my Childhood - . . . - 177 

Home of Hope . . .' . . . . 179 

Oh think not 'tis pride - . . . - 181 

Change ...... 183 

Hope ....... 185 



FAME. 



" Of all the phantoms fleeting in tlie mist 
Of time, though meager all, and ghostly thin. 
Most unsubstantial, unessential shade 
Was earthly Fame."— Pollok. 

Turn from the earth, to the stellated sky, 

To prospects boundless to the mental eye ; 

Can man, though mortal, view the ethereal sphere, 

And rest contented in his dwelling here? 

Can souls, to glory and ambition given, 

Unmoved survey the beauteous orbs of heaven, 

And quell the tumults of the aspiring mind. 

That nature's fetters in her thraldom bind ? 

No : man, illustrious, like yon orbs would shine ; 

Reject the mortal and become divine ; 

Shine on through ages, and transmit his name 

With fadeless glory to immortal Fame. 

'Tis hard to climb the mountain's rugged steep ; 
'Tis hard to battle with the boisterous deep ; 

2 



10 FAME. 

And harder far, where hostile hosts engage, 

To stem the torrent of revengeful rage ; 

But yet there be, who from the vault of heaven, 

Have drawn the lightnings, down the tempest driven; 

Have on the plains, where death and slaughter 

spread 
The blood-stained banners of the mighty dead, 
Reaped honours in the trumpet-blast of fame, 
The never-fading wreath, and deathless name. 
There was, nor long has past the dreadful day. 
Earth's mightiest monarch in triumphant sway; 
Whose godlike genius could transcendent tower 
O'er souls gigantic and unrivalled power; 
Whose strength defied the wrath of earth and 

heaven. 
Broke the forged fetters from the nations riven — 
Hurled kings and princes from their shattered 

thrones. 
Till blood-stained earth was bleached with human 

bones. 
There were, where Indus or Euphrates lave. 
On other shores or ocean's rolling wave, 
Heroes as wise, as noble, and as brave; 
But fortune smiled not on their natal hour. 
And fame, for them, was but a fading flower; 



FAME. 11 

In bloom — 'twas bright ! 'twas beautiful ! but gave 
A sweeter fragrance from the silent grave, 
Till, evanescent as the scented rose, 
At length, it left them to their long repose. 
And O, what myriads ! 'neath the raging deep, 
Do now, perchance, in solemn silence sleep — 
Nations unknown, ere new-born eai'th began 
To bloom in beauty for degenerate man. 
The godlike offspring of a nobler sphere,* 
Who sought a home, but found no refuge here. 
And O, what mind can penetrate the gloom, 
That darkly hovers o'er the world's broad tomb ; 
And boldly rend the all-obscuring screen 
That hides from man, those mysteries unseen, 
Where dark oblivion waves her sable shroud. 
Round earth's commingled and forgotten crowd ! 

Still Fame survives, and swells with trumpet blast, 
The deeds of heroes and of sages past ; 
And still the echoes of her sounds we hear, 
In distance lost, low murmuring on the ear. 
While onward rolls the loud and thundering shout, 
Where wheel her warriors mid the battle's rout, 
And ardent votaries on the field of death 
Stake life and freedom for her flitting breath. 



12 FAME. 

A host of heroes on her list remain ; 
Their proud processions, and triumphal train ; 
The pomp, the festivals of former time ; 
The feats of valour, and the deeds of crime. 
Sieges and cities, bulwarks once renowned, 
That now, alas, lie level with the ground ; 
The plains where chiefs in battle's bright array, 
Urged on their chargers to the dreadful fray, 
Till thousands sank beneath the iron car 
Of savage slaughter, and insatiate war. 

Assyria's lands, alike with Greece, can boast 
Her martial heroes, and her warlike host ; 
And Thymbra's plain to distant ages tell, 
How Cyrus conquered, and how Croesus fell ; 
Nor did the Macedonian in his might 
E'er shine more brilliant in the bloody fight. 
Than he who erst by Hermus' banks beheld. 
The pride of Egypt on the battle field 
Hurl back the victor, and the vanquished shield, 
Till heap on heap, his Median warriors rose, 
A bloody bulwark for their battling foes.^ 
Where now, O Egypt ! is thy pride and strength ? 
Alas, thy clarion voice hath ceased at length. 
The red sirocco, and the tempest blast, 
Have o'er thy glory with destruction past ; 



FAME. 13 

And Persia's wrath beheld the raging flame 

Consume the tombs, and temples of thy fame;^ 

Age after age hath o'er thy ruins sped, 

Since slept the first and mightiest of thy dead ; 

And warlike chiefs, from distant climes, have sought 

The fields where Csesar or Cambyses fought. 

Nor glittering arms, nor warlike arts alone, 

Have shed their lustre round Sesostris' throne — 

Behold the stately pile that proudly rears 

Its beaten summit of three thousand years ! 

The towering obelisk that long shall stand 

The mystic wonder of the desert land ! 

Behold the ruins that profusely lie 

In awful grandeur 'neath her burning sky ; 

The rocky dwellings of the mighty dead 

Whose mummied bones have like their spirits fled ; 

O Egypt ! thy exulting shout may cease, 

But time hath not, nor ever shall erase 

These bright memorials of thy glorious reign, 

That man may wish, but ne'er shall see again^^ 

Alas, presumptuous pride ! and hopes too vain. 

E'en Thebes shall lie commingled with the plain ; 

The very stones, the fabrics of her fame, 

Dissolved to dust, shall perish with her name ; 



I 



14 FAME. 

And not a sign the searching eye shall trace, 
Of Egypt's glory or her vanished race. 

But time rolls on, and as the verdant grass 
Falls 'neath the scythe, so mortals as they pass, 
Nations and empires own his awful sway, 
Shrink at his touch and to the dust decay. 
E'en art and science in progression grow, 
Shed their bright radiance and their bliss bestow ; 
Then fall and fade before some ruthless power, 
Like the frail bud before the inclement shower ; 
While callous ignorance, submerging all, 
Rolls o'er their wreck, and glories in their fall ; 
Till lingering relics long by tempests worn, 
Back to their elemental dust return ; 
And nought remains of man's imperious sway. 
The laboured efforts of his little day, 
To tell that once tlie beauteous earth he trod, 
A bloated vampire, or a mimic god. 

Far from the north, the hardy warriors poured, 
The Hun, the Vandal, and the Gothic horde ; 
And. fierce for slaughter, rolled each barbarous 

band, 
The bloodv scourges of a sruiltv land. 



FAME. 15 

And then, foredoomed, the enfeebled nations fell, 

The massy fortress, dome, and citadel; 

Then towns and cities, tombs and temples grew, 

A blazing beacon to the unbounded view ; 

And struggling nations, 'mid their ruins fired. 

For being battled, and in flames expired. 

Where then, O Rome ! was all thy martial force, 

Thine empire's being, and thy glory's source — 

That erst the Epirot from your blood-stained shore 

Back to the borders of Arcadia bore t 

Where then thy warriors, and thy conquering 

chiefs ? 
Thy soldiers, countless as the forest leaves ? 
Thy shield and sword,^ eternal Rome ! where then, 
Thy laureled heroes, and thy mighty men ? 
No arm to shield thee, and no power to save, 
The avenging Vandal^ to destruction gave 
Thy stately fabrics, through long ages reared 
To heroes honoured, and to gods revered; 
Then from thee burst the loud lamenting cry, 
The wild shrill shriek of piercing agony ; 
And all forlorn thy trembling people fled, 
Or fell in heaps o'er myriads of the dead ; 
Till through thy streets the ensanguined currents 

ran. 
And sank thy glories as thy reign began. 



16 FAME. 

But not alone o'er fated Europe spread 
Barbarian darkness, and appalling dread ; 
Or only there the barbarous nations poured, 
To reap the harvest of the ruthless sword. 
And hurl to ruin in the wreck of crime, 
The boast of nations in their sons sublime — 
Stupendous works, by godlike souls designed, 
The matchless triumphs of the immortal mind ; 
E'en thou wert doomed, the Macedonian's' pride. 
Whose stately works with ancient grandeur vied, 
Whose fame was borne to foreign climes afar. 
The lingering light of Egypt's waning star ; 
Fair commerce blest thee, and thy golden reign 
Extended boundless o'er the boisterous main ; 
E'en Indian keels ploughed o'er the Erythrean sea, 
To bear the stores of empires unto thee ; 
And fertile Nile his fruitful tributes bore, 
To swell thy glory and increase thy store. 
From far Byzantium, the Herculean strait. 
Thronged to thy halls the offspring of the great ; 
E'en seers and sages sought thy classic shade. 
Received instruction, and their homage paid ; 
To distant lands thy lore and glory spread. 
And o'er their sons the lights of science shed. 
Yet o'er thee swept the desolating storm. 
Bowed thy tall crest, and bent thy stately form, 



FAME. 17 

When fierce fanatic wrath to ruin hurled 

The works of genius, and the enlightened world. 

Far in Arabia's wild and desert waste — 

Where ne'er the conqueror in his pride had passed,^ 

Nor proud oppression poured his servile train 

To bow her offspring to the sterile plain ; 

Whence glory's thirst had ne'er to conquest led 

Her freeborn children, from their humble shed,^ 

Nor taught them wide in foreign chmes afar, 

To spread the terrors of insatiate war — 

Her warrior prophet" from his dwelling driven, 

Forsook his kindred, and appealed to heaven. 

The breath of glory fanned his smothered flame, 

And spurred him on to conquest and to fame. 

Unmoved he saw the dreadful clouds that rose, 

Vindictive vengeance, and opposing foes. 

Far in the desert rose his battle cry, 

The clash of arms, the shouts of victory, 

The dying groans, the agonizing wail, 

Borne on the breeze from Beder's" lonely vale. 

Where, round their chief, the firm devoted few 

The unerring arrow and the falchion drew; 

And firm in faith, with spirits undismayed, 

The hostile hosts in serried files surveyed. 



18 FAME. 

That backward hurled, Uke ocean's angry flood. 
Recoiled in wrath and reeking with their blood ; 
While, bowed to earth, the afflicted prophet paid 
To heaven his homage, and invoked its aid ; 
In anguish pour'd his spirit to the sky, 
In trembling tones of heartfelt agony. 
Propitious heaven his invocation heard, 
Revived his warriors, and their vigour reared, 
To battle bore him on his charger driven, 
And crowned his triumph with the aid of heaven. 

Deem not that man, unaided, e'er hath trod 
O'er prostrate empires with an iron rod. 
To chasten kingdoms, and reform mankind, 
Their morals darkened, and degraded mind; 
Nor think the bolts at sinful nations hurled, 
Proclaim God's vengeance to a guilty world ; 
Approving Mercy points their destined course, 
And wings their fury from her fountain source ; 
Poor simple mortals, to their being blind. 
See not the glory nor the good designed, 
But only wrath, and God's vindictive soul, 
In fiery clouds, and dreadful thunder roll. 
What ! God — the Father — made this world so fair, 
Produced mankind for anguish and despair ; 



FAME. 1 y 

And feelings exquisite to mortals gave, 
To tread the earth a demon or a knave ? 
Displayed yon glories o'er his humble head, 
And in his paths the lights of science shed; 
Disclosed the realms for meaner beings born, 
Yet placed him here all friendless and forlorn ? 
Could thy frail acis, poor feeble thing, offend, 
Cause wrath divine in vengeance to descend ? 
Could mercy infinite, by thee be moved, 
(From Nature springing and by God beloved) 
To curse the being that he might have left 
Devoid of feeling, or of sense bereft ; 
Or perfect made, to tread his courts above. 
In endless rapture and eternal love ? — 
For shame ! such faith should ever fostering find. 
To bow the spirit and debase m.ankind ; 
Appal the souls of Winded millions bound 
To drag existence groveling on the ground, 
With no fond hopes, no aspirations given, 
"Outcasts of earth, and reprobate of heaven!" 

O'er Araby, the prophet's voice was heard, 
Medina's*- sons his chosen ones appeared ; 
The nomad tribes their former fields forsook, 
Their browsing camels, and their shepherd's crook ; 



20 



FAME. 



With bigot zeal the death of kindred sought, 
Through malice struggled, and for vengeance 

fought ; 
Life's purest current for oppression poured, 
In battle gloried, and in blood adored. 
On Siffin's*'' plain, in hostile ranks arrayed. 
Their warlike chiefs the bloody fight essayed ; 
With mutual wrath their bands to battle led. 
And strewed the plain with thousands of the dead ; 
Outrivalling Rome with all her glory crowned, 
And Greece illustrious in her deeds renowned. 
But all in vain did Ah's reeking blade, 
The serried files of furious foes invade ; 
Not yet, by fate decreed, the destined day. 
When Hashem's sons should reign with regal sway, 
And exiled far, Omayah's offspring roam^* 
A houseless pilgrim, from his native home. 
But darker yet, Kerbela's^^ purpled plain 
Deferred the hope that blossomed but in vain — 
Arabia's pride, and All's warlike son, 
Doomed to destruction ere his rule begun. 
Long o'er his grave may wandering pilgrims weep 
Where Hosein's*^ ashes with his father's sleep ; 
Long to his tomb may Irak's daughters bring 
Their fragrant offerings in the bloom of spring; 



FAME. 21 

But ne'er again shall Araby behold 
As noble offspring as her warriors bold, 
Whose generous pride, and lofty daring soul, 
Unmoved, could view the tide of battle roll. 
And fixed as firm as ocean's barrier rock, 
Smile at the tempest and defy its shock. 

O'er Syria swept her warriors' dreadful wrath, 
Where Ruin marked his progress in their path ; 
And prostrate nations, long to chains inured. 
The Moslem thraldom and its laws endured. 
E'en thou, once Queen, and Zion's daughter fair, 
Wert doomed to drag the conqueror's iron car ; 
In dust to kneel before the imperious foe. 
And drink to dregs oppression's bitter wo : 
Thou, on whose heights the prophet sons of old 
The coming wrath of future warriors told ; 
Whose glorious lights to distant nations shone. 
Lured Sheba's queen to seek thy stately throne. 
The sons of Tyre*'' to farthest regions led. 
And o'er the earth enlivening radiance shed: 
Whence sprang the power that mightiest empires 

shook, — 
The magic spell of superstition broke, — 

3 « 



22 FAME. 

Divided kingdoms, and together hurled 
The shattered fragments of a ruined world ! 
Far to ihe north, the Moslem's potent pride 
Rolled death and terror in its sanguine tide ; 
O'er Media swept, on fair Caucasus broke,*^ 
And slumbering nations from its wilds awoke. 
Exhausted Asia, wide with ruin spread. 
Her plains dispeopled and her glories fled, 
By rival chiefs in deadly discord torn, 
Succumbed for peace, unpitied and forlorn. 
And this the land successive nations owned, 
With conquering chiefs in regal state enthroned ; 
Where light and darkness have alternate reigned, 
Resigned their empire and their rule regained ; 
Where art and science have diffused their light, 
Dispelled the darkness of Cimmerian night, 
And shone o'er earth as glory's guiding star 
To lure the sons of genius from afar; 
The Persian's pride, the Macedonian's boast. 
The field of Rome's and Mithradates' host, 
Where loftiest deeds the poet's lays employ, 
The wreck of Babel and the fall of Troy. 
Yet here Oblivion shall resume her reign. 
And all be wildness and a waste again ; 



FAME. 



23 



When Balhec's site and Estakar's shall be 
As bleak and barren as the desert sea — 
Where the wan traveller, 'neath the torrid rays, 
Treads o'er the relics of departed days. 
And views afar, with rapture and surprise, 
The lonely column in the desert rise. 
Some lingering trophy of the soul sublime, 
By Ruin buried in the march of Time; 
When smothered nations, by his breath entombed, 
To dark oblivion and to death were doomed — 
Or o'er their walls the w'aving forest spread, 
And gloomy stillness triumph o'er the dead, 
Till some bold hunter of the mountain deer. 
Some wandering pilgrim, or a pioneer, 
Through tangled brake and woven thicket led, 
Shall o'er the wreck of ruined empires tread, 
And wondering view, as hieroglyphics then, 
Mysterious records of illustrious men. 
Who once, perchance, confiding could believe 
Time would their actions unto ages give. 
Alas, delusive hope ! unstable power ! 
Of glory's transient and illusive hour! 

Behold the land where mighty cities stood 
By Tigris' waters and Euphrates' flood ; 



24 



FAME. 



Where erst the walls of Nineveh arose, 
And Babel's bulwarks 'gainst opposing foes, 
Stupendous works, gigantic and sublime, 
Defying nations and the wrath of time. 
Where now, alas ! is Babel's pride and power, 
The beaming lustre of her brightest hour ; 
When potent nations to her temples poured, 
Beheld her greatness and her God adored ;*^ 
When every land and every fruitful isle. 
From distant Indus to the fertile Nile, 
Their annual tribute to her monarch paid, 
Received his mandate and his laws obeyed ? 
Rise from the tomb, ye shades of greatness gone! 
Gaze on the scenes ye once could smile upon ! 
Far-conquering Queen,'^" imperial Empress, rise ! 
Survey thine empire and behold thy prize — 
The wondrous works thy mighty power improved, 
Thy glory brightened and thy genius loved. 
Thou Chief of chiefs, whose scythed chariots 

spread 
The fields of carnage with their heaps of dead. 
When Lydia's^ king, deluded, learned too late 
The ambiguous answer of unerring fate, 
Come to the plains thy conquering warriors trod. 
When Ashur's bulwarks bowed before thy nod, 



FAME. 



25 



Behold the trophy that thy prowess won, 

The embattled walls of mighty Babylon ! 

Thou, mimic God ! e'en Amnion's fabled son, 

Pride of the Greek ! immortal Macedon ! 

Come to the earth, thine iron sceptre keep, 

Gaze o'er the world, and linger yet to weep — 

Not for a field to court thy martial fame; 

Not for a land to tremble at thy name : 

Weep for the shades of pride and glory gone — 

Weep for the lights that once in triumph shone. 

Is this thy prize 1 and tliis thy trophy too ? 

For this thy blade the struggling nations slew ; 

When earth's extremes thy conquering clarion 

heard, 
Beheld thy prowess and thy warriors feared 1 
And is this all ? — the mouldering mounds that tell 
How nations flourished and how kingdoms fell ! 
The mournful spot where midnight stillness reigns 
O'er Shinar's lonely and forsaken plains ! 

Thou, on whose height the bannered sheet un- 
furled, 
Waves o'er the pride of Europe and the World, 
Storm-rocked Albion ! Empress of the sea ! 
The star of empire flickers still for thee ; 

3* 



26 



FAME. 



Say; shall its light with dazzling radiance shine, 
Beam o'er the world, and be for ever thine ? 
Far to each clime thy daring children roam. 
O'er the drear desert — o'er the ocean's foam — 
Nor torrid zone, nor ice-encircled sphere 
Bounds the broad limits of thv wide career ; 
And dost thou dream thy fame shall ever be 
f-iight of the earth and beacon of the sea? 
So Tyre^'' once thought, upon her sea-girt isle, 
Blest by her commerce and her fruitful toil : 
Now, o'er her wreck the shrieking sea-gulls soar, 
And ocean's waves in sullen murmurs roar; 
The lonely fisherman alone doth dwell 
Where the proud fabrics of the mighty fell. 
And all unconscious of the illustrious dead, 
His dripping netting o'er their dwellings spread. 
So Carthage*' thought, the Empress of the sea, 
Outrivalling all, or second unto thee : 
But where 's the rival of imperial Rome 1 
Where are her barks that bounded o'er the foam 1 
Her glorious wreaths in fatal conflicts won? 
Her injured hero,*'* and victorious son — 
The vindicating bolt — the scourginsr rod — 
Etruria owned, and dreaded as a God ? 



FA M K . 



27 



Alas, where once stupendous Carthage stood, 

Break the blue billows of the boundless flood, 

And sigh the winds that o'er Zahara sweep, 

Like mourning spirits of the mighty deep — 

No hostile navies in her harbours ride — 

No thundering shouts com6 booming o'er the tide ; 

No smouldering ruins rise in grandeur there 

Where raged the horrors of vindictive war; 

Where woman frail her raven ringlets gave 

To guard her offspring and to arm the brave. 

And boldly on the lowering bulwark stood 

'Mid conflagration and polluting blood, 

To shield her country from the impending strife, 

Or seal its glory with her sacred life — 

Alas, heroic courage could not save 

The lingering relics of the illustrious brave : 

High o'er her rampart rose the raging flame — 

The victim's glory — and the victor's shame — 

And Carthage, Queen of commerce ! and the bride, 

Old Ocean bore in triumph o'er his tide ! 

Phenicia's offspring, that to Lybia came. 

Her realms to govern, and her wilds to tame, 

Sank in her rival's all-consuming fire — 

A warning beacon ! and a nation's pyre ! 



28 FAME. 

And dread convulsions Europe's breast shall heave; 
Proud empires totter, and their basements leave; 
Illustrious kingdoms into fragments break ; 
E'en Slaughter's self his thirst for carnage slake — 
Yea, storms on storms in quick succession roll. 
Till quaking Nature tremble to the pole; 
Then thou, Britannia ! even thou shalt be 
The lone lost beacon of the boundless sea ! 

New arms, new arts, new cities, shall arise, 
And new-born nations struggle for the prize ; 
But vain their efforts ; vain each mortal aim ; 
Stern man may struggle; but his fate 's the same — 
The Trihe that once in triumph twanged the bow, 
And saw the life-streams from their victims flow, 
Till yonder mounds,^ with human blood were red, 
And strewed with thousands of the gallant dead, 
That future ages might their deeds admire, 
When ihey should perish and like them expire, — 
Perchance conceived, with coming time would roll 
Their favoured offspring to the frozen pole ; 
And either ocean with its boisterous waves, 
Bound the broad empire of the Indian braves : 
But where, O where 's that warlike race renowned '? 
Where are their temples, and their trophies found I 



FAME. 



29 



Where are the deeds for future fame to swell, 
When death should echo in the Indian yell 1 
They've past — they've gone — their glory, and their 

shame — 
The Frenchman's*^^ vengeance, and the nations 

name — 
Injuries, and injustice that they bore. 
When fled the white man from his native shore, 
And sought beneath the Indian's humble shed, 
For food and shelter for his houseless head. 
They've gone — and where we all must go at last ! 
Life 's but a dream — a dream that 's quickly past — 
They shone with splendour in their short career ; 
They ruled with justice ; and they reveled here ; 
But now, no more their midnight beacons blaze. 
Nor swell their songs of triumph and of praise — 
They've died like billows on a barren shore — 
Their race has vanished, and their rule is o'er. 
And ice perchance, like them, may here pursue 
Their meteor glory — and as vainly too — 
Till Earth, kind mother of our mortal race, 
Shall hide alike, our glories and disgrace ! 

Gaze out on nature's wide and wild domain, 
Her gorgeous glories, and her boundless reign, 



30 FAME. 

Primeval wonders that shall ever be 

Through time revolving in immensity — 

These are the works of that Omniscient Mind 

That man may search, but searching never find ; 

Whose sway controls the humble and the great — 

Nor this may shun, nor that its destined fate — 

Whose all-embracins: mind can ever see 

Cause and effect, through all eternity ; 

The silent shaft, that wings a nation's fate, 

When genius slumbers at an early date ; 

The sneer that stings the wretch obscure to rise, 

And win the honours of a nation's prize; 

The clouds impeded, and the drouth that 's near ; 

The plague and famine, of a coming year ; 

The bloody battle, and the wild despair, 

When Bravery bleeds, and Beauty rends her hair ; 

Conceited man, compared with Power Divine, 

What strength, what wisdom, or what glory '; 

thine 1 — 
The ephemeral insect of a summer day. 
Sprung from the earth, to perish with its ray. 

Gaze on the splendours of yon setting sun — 
His brief, but bright career, is nearly run. 



FAME. 



31 



To-day — to-morrow, and his light again 
Shall shed its splendour, and resume its reign — 
And thus, thousands of years have rolled away, 
With man's alternate vigour and decay, 
While dark Oblivion doth alone retain 
The meteor glories of his transient reign ! 



FAYETTE. 

Fayette is one of tlie oldest wealthiest, most populous, and best im- 
proved counties in Kentucky. Its original boundaries embraced, if not all, 
almost all of the present adjoining counties, comprehending the largest body 
of the richest land in Kentucky. 

No more thy woods the roving bisons tread, 
Where bears, and wolves, and direful monsters bred ; 
Or timid fawns, from copse and covert break, 
Where crouched the cougar and the rattlesnake ; 
No more the fox that bayed the silvery light, 
Breaks the deep silence of the stilly night. 
Or boding croakings from the hollow oak, 
The peaceful slumberer in his dreams provoke. 
The lambkins skip along thy grassy mead, 
The fattened oxen in thy meadows feed. 
And neighing steeds, with long dishevelled main. 
Arch their proud necks, and prance along the plain; 
Aspiring temples, towering to the sky. 
Rise o'er the spot where \\ igw'ams met the eye ; 
And heavenly strains, from saints and sages swell, 
Where rang the rifle, and the Indian yell. 



FAYETTE. 33 

All, all has changed, and freedom's balmy smiles 
Blest the stern struggle and the hero's toil ; 
Peace, plenty, wisdom, beauty, bliss, and power, 
Bless thy fair fields, and beautify thy bower. 
No more the clanging armour or the trumpet's call, 
Bids thy brave sons desert their native hall ; 
The flaming faggot flickers now no more, 
Nor drips the tomahawk with human gore ; 
The red man's race has from thy forest fled. 
Those woods where oft his bravest warriors bled ; 
Who slumber now beneath the verdant sod, 
Victor, and vanquished, in their last abode. 

Sweet, sweet, O Peace! are all thy blooming 

charms ; 
Thy radiant light that every bosom warms, 
Bids wisdom's germs to life and beauty bloom, 
Unfading flowers around the hero's tomb ; 
Melodious lyres with never ceasing lays. 
Swell with the warrior's or the sage's praise, 
And stir the sons to emulate the sires. 
In field or hall, with fierce ambition's fires; 
Dispels the darkness of the savage mind. 
Foe to itself, and tyrant of its kind, 

4 



34 



FAYETTE. 



With rays so pure, so lovely, and divine, 

That science settles in its holy shrine, 

And man immortal, wakes to conscious worth, 

Spurns the vile passions of his brutal birth, 

Turns to the sky, his heaven descended ray. 

And burns to be unfettered from his clay. 

Far o'er thy fields, thy crag-girt streams, 

O Fayette ! now, her silvery banner beams. 

And choral strains, from harps that sweetly swell, 

Her happy triumphs and thy beauties tell. 

But fierce the struggle for her golden reign, 

And strong those arms that burst the Tyrant's chain ; 

That hurled his fiends, with infant slaughter dyed, 

From Freedom's forest, o'er the northern tide ; 

That pour'd destruction on the invidious foe, 

Who gored thy breast with many a vengeful blow. 

And taught his mercenary hordes to dread 

Thy huntsmen's halloo, and their hissing lead. 

Yes, long and dreadful was the eventful strife. 

With rifle, tomahawk, and scalping knife. 

By vale and glen and craggy mountain height, 

At morn, at even, in the stilly night. 

Light from his couch the hardy huntsman rose, 

When midnight yellings warned him of his foes. 



FAYETTE. 



35 



Seized his sure rifle from its ready stand, 
And poured destruction on the prowling band. 
And nnany a tale of terror and despair, 
Thy forest shades in strange tradition bear. 

The flaming lightnings flash along the sky, 
The loud-toned thunders rumble from on high, 
And darkening clouds, athwart the dusky heaven, 
Are by the storm in gloomy grandeur driven ; 
The groaning monarchs of the forest round. 
Bow their tall honours to the trembling ground, 
While ever and anon, with deafening peal. 
The lightning's flash, their cloud-crowned tops 

reveal ; 
The torrents fall, the rushing streamlets flow, 
Down dashing fiercely foaming as they go, 
Their strength resistless, thundering with their 

spray. 
Bear logs, and stones, and forests in their way — 
Close crouched beneath the shelving rocks that 

hung. 
With cedars crowned, that from each crevice 

sprung, 
Projecting from the cliff, an ample roof, 
'Gainst pelting tempests and the sun a proof, 



36 



FAYETTE. 



A band of hunters wearied with toil and pain, 
Had early sheltered from the approaching rain — 
A gurgling fountain at the tall cliff's base, 
Had lured them thirsty to the craggy place — 
And there, perceiving through the foliage gay 
The threatening storm that hovered o'er their way, 
Resolved their simple viands to prepare, 
Their hunger satiate, with a hunter's fare. 
The tempest lowered darker to each eye, 
The rolling thunders rumbled through the sky. 
The pitiless storm poured pelting on the shed, 
And one dark cloud athwart the concave spread. 
The sun went down — the shades of night drew on. 
And there they slept securely and alone. 

O, sweet is sleep — unto the weary sweet ; 
Sweet to the hunter in his wild retreat ; 
Sweet to the houseless when no home they find — 
The ethereal balm, the solace of the mind ! 
Sweet to the ploughman plodding o'er the plain, 
With fancy's visions of his golden grain ; 
Sweet to the traveller toiling on his way. 
When evening twilight gilds the closing day ; 
Sweet to the sailor on the ocean's wave, 
To conquering chieftain, and to captive slave; 



FAYETTE. 37 

The brightest boon to animation given ! 

The purest balm beneath the vault of heaven ! 

But oft unknown will restless Fancy rise, 

Clothed in the terrors of some dark disguise, 

Invade the mansion of the slumbering mind, 

And every tenant in her thraldom bind. 

Now o'er the hunter spreads her magic reign : 

He groans and sighs with self-created pain ; 

Grasps with his hands the evanescent air, 

With terror smiles at torture and despair. 

Bright visions come of long-departed days ; 

On perished hopes his vacant eyeballs gaze ; 

His deafened ears the sounds of music hear. 

And feeling owns the slow descending tear. 

Young Beauty comes, with blushing spring flovi^ers 

bound, 
Looks in his eye, and clasps his waist around; 
Breathes in his soul her own consuming fire. 
Sighs that but spring in anguish to expire ; 
Sinks on his breast — her raiments rent disclose 
Horrors that shake the enchantment of repose — 
A fleshless corse, with recent lifeblood warm, 
Looks in his face, and sinks upon his arm ; 
The slimy reptiles, twined with many a fold, 
A horrid wreath, around her brow they hold ; 

4* 



38 FAYETTE. 

While from her sockets, crouched in ambush there. 

The serpents hiss and shoot a lurid glare. 

Anon the heavens unto his sight appear, 

And martial hosts their flaming standards rear, 

Wave their bright ensigns through the ethereal space, 

O'er warlike heroes of a heavenly race ; 

On either side, aloft and wide and deep. 

Like gathered clouds upon the mountain steep, 

The hosts innumerable shine on high, 

Far as the eye can pierce the flaming sky. 

Here towered aloft, with long dishevelled hair, 

The ghastly chief of carnage and despair; 

There, calm and mute with no commotion, shone 

The opposing chief, majestic and alone ; 

His searching eye surveyed the approaching storm, 

The host's confusion and the demon's form : 

Quick flashing meteors flame along each line, 

And lightning-scathed immortal forms divine, 

With hisses, groans, and awful thunder peal. 

Hurled headlong down, to horrid darkness wheel. 

Sulphuric vapours gather in the sky, 

And close the scene of terror from his eye, 

While shrieks, and yells, and rumbling thunder 

dread 
Still fiercer grow, and die above his head. 



FAYETTE. 39 

Apace, the cloud unto the astonished view 
Rolled into form, a monstrous serpent grew : 
His glittering scales of gold and silver seem ; 
His flashing eyes two dazzling meteors beam ; 
His filmy wings, a fourth the ethereal space. 
Two brilliant stars with bright effulgence grace. 
With many a hiss and dart of forked tongue. 
In volumes huge, he rolls his length along, 
Distilling poison as he wings his flight 
To shades of torture and Tartarian night. 
Still as he flees the avenging darts pursue. 
And pierce his scales in horrid gashes through: 
A winsjed archer on a winged steed 
Twangs the dread bow that makes the monster 

bleed. 
Whirls through the air, now hovers from on high. 
Points the sure shaft with an unerring eye, 
And wings its flight, with all its gall of wo. 
In furious vengeance on the fleeing foe. 
Anon the scene is changed. An acorn to his view 
Burst into life, and to his senses grew ; 
Rapid it rose, evolving as it sprung 
Wide-spreading boughs with verdant honours hung; 
Youthful and strong, the monarch of its race, 
It bloomed in beauty and it grew in grace, 



40 FAYETTE. 

Towering in grandeur and branching to the sky, 

A continent covering with its canopy. 

The feathered tribes from every quarter flew, 

And as they came still greater flocks they drew, 

In hue and tongue as various as the dyes 

Of morning tints amid the orient skies ; 

In sunshine some, and some in tempest came, 

Both refuge found, and flourished as tlie same ; 

Their mingled notes melodious music made 

That swelled like seraph's through the sylvan shade ; 

Their clustering nests on every bough were hung, 

Here mates appeared, and there the chirping young; 

The tribes distinct, commingling as they came, 

One race produced, in nature and in name. 

Perennial flowers begem the grassy mead, 

And cornstalks glisten with their golden seed ; 

Eternal verdure clothes the landscape wide, 

And teems with beauty by the mountain side; 

O'er moss-grown rocks, the gurgling fountains 

gush, 
Adown the vales the roaring torrents rush, 
Turbulent and grand, beneath the waving wood, 
Whirl the wild waters of the foaming flood — 
There beauty seemed with grandeur to unite. 
In all most holy, beautiful, and bright, 



FAYETTE. 



41 



All that could chain or charm the human mind, 
All that the passions of the soul could bind. 

The dream is past— The glimmering day-dawn 

breaks, 
And slumbering nature from her trance awakes ; 
The warbling songsters, near and far remote, 
Swell in soft strains their wild and sweetest note ; 
The frisking squirrel round the vine-clad tree. 
With many an active bound, springs merrily ; 
The drooping boughs, bent by the grateful shower. 
Their branches rear and blossom in each bower ; 
While passing zephyrs, through each lovely vale, 
O'er the tranced senses of the soul prevail. 
And bear in triumph as they move along, 
The sweets of fragrance, and the charms of song ; 
Hark ! the shrill rifle 's heard upon the blast. 
The whirling bullet whistled as it past — 
Quick to his feet each hardy huntsman sprung, 
The rattling shot-pouch o'er their shoulders hung ; 
The deadly rifle glittered in each hand, 
The friend and fortune of that daring band ; 
With eager gaze, they scan the forest near, 
And mutely stand with keen attentive ear; 
The crackling thicket and the rustling leaves, 
The wild beast's moving, and his bosom heaves. 



42 



FAYETTE. 



First gained their ear, and fixed each searching eye 
That anxions watched the approaching prodigy — 
When lo ! the monster bursting from the wood. 
Lapped the cool water, and a moment stood, 
Raised his huge head, and scenting then the breeze, 
Slowly retired, and vanished by degrees — 
Silence prevailed, a moment intervened ; 
For foliage dense each distant object screened ; 
But now apace a glittering rifle shone, 
And now a hunter, stalwart and alone ; 
His trusty knife hung bloody at his side. 
The reeking blade his buckskin garments dyed. 
While in his girdle, o'er his shoulders thrown. 
Appeared a fallow, fattened and full grown. 
Onward he came, familiar with each place. 
Each gurgling fountain and each secret trace — 
But backward sprung, astonished as he heard 
The murmuring voice and undistinguished word ; 
Paused for a moment, and a moment gazed, 
Touched the light trigger and his rifle raised, 
But dropped as quickly, as the happy sound 
Of welcome burst from every lip around ; 
Grasped with strong gripe each hardy hunter's 

hand, 
And hailed with joy each brother of the band, 



FAYETTE. 



43 



His friends in youth, the partners of his toil, 

The daring offspring of his native soil, 

The tried companions in each deadly strife, 

That claimed no mercy of the scalping knife, 

The flaming faggot, and the fiendish crew 

That smiled horrific at each groan they drew. 

Their greetings o'er, quick questions next succeed 

Of late encounters and each daring deed ; 

Of recent news from the Atlantic coast, 

And England's murdering, mercenary host; 

If Freedom's offspring yet did tamely bear 

The galling shackles none but slaves would wear, 

Or rise like freemen, and repel the band 

Polluting justice and their native land. 

Fierce indignation flashed from every eye, 

As mute they listened to the sad reply 

Of kindred slaughtered and of houses sacked. 

Of foes resisted in their fierce attack, 

Disgraceful fleeing vindicating wrath. 

That pierced their host and followed in their path. 

Till backward driven from their fiendish aim. 

They fell or fled in infamy and shame. 

Then here, he cried, let Lexington'^'' proclaim, 

And nature's self preserve the hallowed name 



44 



FAYETTE. 



That long shall tell the agonies we bore, 

Till Freedom soothed them with her dearest gore; 

Disowned the tyrant with his threat'ning power, 

And undismayed beheld the tempest lower ; 

Burst every bond that e'er affection tied, 

Smiled at his wrath and all his host defied. 

And when our offspring here that name shall hail, 

And sadly listen to the bloody tale, 

May Freedom nerve each patriot's iron arm, 

Beam in his soul, and all his being warm ; 

Recall the horrors of that barbarous deed 

That caused her breast with ghastly wounds to 

bleed, 
When more than demon hate hurled at her heart 
With fiendish fury her envenomed dart. 

Such, O Fayette ! thy fearless founders were, 
And such the offspring Freedom's soil should bear; 
Such by Miami's blood-stained banks have poured 
Life's purest current on the ruthless sword, 
And rushed too rashly in the fatal fight, 
To sink like Dudley"^ to the shades of night; 
Such venerable Shelby'^ marched of yore, 
Along the banks of Erie's sandy shore. 



i 



FAYETTE. 45 

And foremost led far o'er Canadian snow, 
To crush the power of the savage foe, 
And there revenge along the banks of Thames, 
The Raisin's horrors, with its raging flames ; 
When gallant Hart^" beneath the Indian fell, 
With many a brave that freedom weeps to tell. 

The huntsman's hut has vanished from thy shade, 
Himself from cells where oft his limbs he laid ; 
And here and there the lonely mossgrown stones. 
Doth tell where rest the hunter's bleachen bones ; 
The frisking fawns have from thy forests fled, 
The prowling panther, and the savage dread ; 
And where the wild geese cackled in the lake. 
The wilder strains of sweetest music wake ; 
The towering eagle soaring to the sky. 
Swells now no more his piercing shriek on high, 
Nor rushing stoops impetuous on his prey, 
Through fields aereal in his trackless way. 

Lo ! through yon aspens trembling in the air, 
The whitened walls that bri^htlv glitter there,^* 
The graceful cedars and the fragrant lea. 
The blooming flowers, and the buzzing bee ; 

5 



46 FAYETTE. 

A fairy spot, where Beauty's hands might twine 
A wreath to crown the minstrel's mournful shrine, 
Or Love inscribe upon the aspen tree, 
Some frail memorial that her eye might see ; 
There may the eyes of pensive Friendship weep 
O'er them that now beneath the green turf sleep ; 
There may his steps, through every sylvan shade, 
Tread o'er the scenes where happy boyhood played ; 
But there no more will Mary's welcome smile, 
Thrill through his heart, and all his cares beguile, 
Or hoary age, with its paternal care, 
Impart its blessing, and its bounties share. 
No more that form of venerable years. 
Through flowering lilacs, in yon hall appears ; 
No more his children clustering in his way, 
Cheer the soft twilight of declining day. 
Oft would they clasp, and climb their grandsire's 

knee; 
Oft would he gaze enraptured at their glee, 
And smile benevolently on their play. 
Beguile the calm hours of his slow decay. 
Oft would he tell the dangers he endured, 
The tedious labour that his wealth secured ; 
How savage foes would stem Ohio's flood, 
And stain its waters with the white man's blood ; 



FAYETTE. 47 

What dangers oft would hover o'er his path, 

The prowling Indian and the tempest's wrath, 

The gloomy forest and the rugged road 

That led from Limestone to his far abode, — 

The long, long route, without one sheltering shed. 

The sky his covering and the earth his bed. 

How honest industry secured at last 

A rich reward for all his dangers past; 

Plenty and peace, the triumph of his aim, 

Accomplished well, w ithout one blush of shame. 

No poor man, swindled of his little all 

Did e'er his name with bitter curse recall, 

And blacken with indelible disgrace, 

To be contemned by all his future race. 

No youthful ward, committed to his care, 

Did ever own the pangs of deep despair, 

And mutely mourn his father's fruitless toil, 

His wealth preserved for vampires to despoil — 

Hypocrites cloaked with virtue, to conceal 

Detested deeds they dared not to reveal ; 

Who only avarice, no other passion knew. 

And winked at acts that heaven would blush to 

view; 
Who calmly wrapt the mantle round their breast, 
As innocently as the saints at rest, 



48 FAYETTE. 

Confiding in their damning guile and name, 
Their base-won wealth, their eminence, and fame. 

With grief the old man marked each mournful 

change, 
And saw the offspring from their fathers range ; 
The sterling worth of those who freed the land 
Succeeded by a selfish, feeble band, 
Devoid of all aspiring aims that claim 
Their country's glory for their lasting fame — 
Ambitious demagogues, a party's chief. 
Who smiled in triumph at their country's grief. 
And pilfered with unshackled hand 
The people's money and the public land — 
A hot, inveterate, wrangling set, that sat 
To fight, to quarrel, quibble and debate, 
Proclaim their virtues and neglect the state ; 
To wheedle, cheat, and gull the gaping crowd 
With words well spoken, impudent and loud, 
And grieve most artfully the people's cares. 
Intrigue, corruption, e'en in state affairs ; 
A race whose souls were centered all in self. 
Neglecting virtue for the sake of pelf, 
Or still as base, each question to oppose 
That aimed to give a moment of repose ; 



FAYETTE. , - 49 



Who'd swell the triumph of their malice too, 
Nor blush to give their infamy to view; 
Who for the sake of party would engage 
The lives of millions in their demon rage. 
And those mendacious hypocrites most grave, 
Who'd cut the throats of freemen for a slave — 
Yea, shed the blood of innocence and youth ; 
For what? For what? God's holy cause, forsooth ! 
A vile, invidious, ignorant, canting race. 
Who wished the deeds of heroes to disgrace. 
And from its base their towering fabric hurled. 
The toil of years — the wonder of the world ! 
But heaven withheld the painful sight, and gave 
The old man rest within his peaceful grave ; 
Like summer's twilight through a cloudless sky, 
He calmly sank, and closed his tearless eye. 

What tribute now, O Fayette ! of his worth, 
Doth towering rise in grandeur o'er the earth ? 
Say, doth no tomb, no mausoleum rise. 
O'er thy fair fields, to tell where Morton lies?^* 
No stately dome, no sculptured marble there. 
With honours bright and flowers ever fair ? 
Ah, no ! his humble peaceful bones repose 
Where no proud pomp doth now their place disclose, 

5* 



50 FAYETTE. 

No useless fabric rears its silded head, 

In mournful mockery, o'er the mouldering dead ; 

A single slab doth mark the place alone. 

And give his name upon the engraven stone. 

Yet doth the deep-toned Sabbath bell, 

O'er thy fair fields his fadeless virtues tell ; 

And choral strains from living tongues proclaim 

His holy tributes and adoring Ra.me. 

And while yon spire shall tower to the sky, 

Or swell those strains of sacred melody, 

So long thy Morton's memory shall remain, 

Remembered, bright, unblemished with a stain. 

And while yon fabric beautifies the land ; 

While Science there thy offspring shall command ; 

And Transylvania from, thy regions pour 

Exhaustless tributes to each distant shore; 

So long, O Fayette ! shall his fame survive, 

Who taught her feeble infancy to thrive, 

And saw her in meridian splendour shine, 

With honours bright, and virtues ever thine. 

Yea, while the tongues of orphans still shall tell 

The father's care that fosters them so well; 

And while the prayers of poverty can rise 

For him they learned, by gratitude, to prize ; 



FAYETTE. 51 

So long the poor man's son, the widow's heir, 
The helpless children that his bounty share, 
Shall swell the strains of never ceasing praise, 
To him who blest the morning of their days, 
•With beams that led them through Cimmerian 

night 
To Science' temple, and immortal light. 
Such is the mausoleum bright of those 
Who stainless sink with glory to repose, 
And leave the lov-e of millions vet to be, 
Their ceaseless tribute to eternity ! 

Fair, Fayette, are thy woods, thy gardens too, 
And fair ihy meadows decked with morning dew, 
Each sylvan scene displays thy matchless charms ; 
Thy fields, thy harvests, and thy fragrant farms. 
Where'er the stranger turns his gazing eyes 
New scenes unfold, and brighter beauties rise ; 
The craggy cliff, the gushing stream beneath. 
The waving cedars and the scented heath. 
The winding walks, in nature's blooming bowers ; 
The charms of youth in beauty's budding flowers, 
That chain the eye, and bid the pulses start, 
Illume the cheek, and triumph in the heart ; 



52 FAYETTE. 

And brighter far the intellectual grace, 
Of Science throned within her dwelling place ; 
The stately hall where genius' steps may rove 
'Mong sages honoured, and the flowers of love ; 
The monument of Morrison's devise,''^ ^ 

That made those walls from smouldering ruins rise, 
Thy brightest honour! and thy lasting fame! 
With Dudley's virtues, and thy Holley's name.^ 



34 



COSMOPOLIS. 

Since Beauty here indignant spurns the lay 

That Friendship tunes to cheer her flowery way, 

Nor deigns with smiles propitious to approve 

The laboured efforts of his art, to move 

A heart indurate, cold as mountain snow 

That ne'er hath melted to the sun's warm glow, 

That far reflects the lingering light he leaves, 

Yet ne'er imparts the ardour it receives ; 

Awake, O Muse, once more thy humble strain. 

To modest Virtue with her lovely train, 

Who blest by nature with superior worth, 

The charms of beauty and the boons of earth, 

So soon has learned from whom her blessings flow. 

To weep with pity for another's wo. 

With charity to hide the fault she sees, 

To win the worthy and the wise to please. 

As fragrant flowers, fading to the tomb. 

To grateful dews exhale their rich perfume, 

So Virtue's deeds of Virtue's self partake. 

And secret virtues from her works awake. 



54 COSMOPOLIS. 

And thus, O thou in whom the virtues shine, 
Where beauty, grace, and charity combine, 
Shall Heaven thy acts beneficent declare, 
And angels' selves thy glorious triumphs share. 
For thee the flowers shall their fragrance breathe ; 
For thee the Muses shall their fillets wreathe, 
And amaranthine garlands ever glow, 
As pure and spotless as the mountain snow. 
For not untaught I touch the trembling lyre, 
To swell the numbers that thy charms inspire, 
And give to worth the tribute of my lay. 
Ere life shall vanish with its hopes away. 

Though stern misfortune has consigned to gloom, 

To dwell with sorrow on the silent tomb, 

The broken spirit of the soul of pride, 

In anguish tortured and affliction tried ; 

Yet e'en as He who Hell's dark horrors knew. 

In anguish saw expanding to his view, 

Far o'er the towering battlement of flame, 

The glorious Being whence his spirit came, 

And all the hosts with dazzling radiance shine 

Around the dwelling of the Lamb divine, 

Cherubim and Seraphim far extend 

Through regions boundless, beings without end ; 



COSMOPOLIS. 55 

Yet ne'er could scale that adamantine height, 

Nor tread those courts, the dwelling of delight : 

E'en thus my spirit from ils deepest gloom 

Beholds the prospects of the future bloom; 

Far on the verge of distant time appear 

The dawning glories of her grand career; 

The auspicious morn of Louisiana's mart, 

The home of Commerce and the seat of Art, 

Where Science' towering temples shall arise, 

And genius' sons contend for glory's prize ; 

Where Semiramis' godlike deeds shall be 

Outrivalled even in immensity. 

And Ninus' boast, Assyria's elder pride, 

That rose in triumph o'er old Tigris' tide. 

Lost in the effulgence of superior light, 

Fade as a star before the queen of night. 

For lo, to fancy's vision shines afar 

The swelling canvass and the clatt'ring car; 

Stupendous fabrics, dazzling domes on high, 

And lofiy spires, tapering to the sky ; 

And see the hissing engine and the rumbling train, 

From California's flood and Texas' fertile plain ; 

From frozen confines, w here with strength endowed, 

Canada triutnphed, and the Tyrant bowed ; 



56 COSMOPOLIS. 

Crouched to her offspring in the avenging hour, 
When Justice conquered and curtailed her power, 
And distant nations disenthralled arose, 
Asserted freedom and subdued her foes. 
See from the shores of distant Oregon, 
The sea-like waves of widespread Amazon, 
Dark Niger's flood, where human myriads teem, 
La Plata's banks and Ganges' rolling stream, 
From Zealand's land. New Holland's peopled plain, 
And all the islands of the boundless main. 
What thousands throng to yonder stately dome, 
Surpassing England's, and the pride of Rome; 
Yea, Egypt's grandeur dwindles in its shade, 
And India's glories in its lustre fade ; 
Art's noblest work, the wonder of the world, 
To last till earth expiring shall be hurled 
Back to the gloom of ruin's ruthless reign. 
To bud, to bloom, and vegetate again. 

But not alone doth yonder dome display 
The peerless triumphs of terrestrial sway. 
Where rolls the flood, impetuous in its tide. 
And stately vessels on its bosom ride. 
What graceful columns, with imposing show, 
From verdant bluffs command the scene below, 



COSMOPOLIS. 57 

The widespread waters and the fruitful fields. 
The towering forests of the foaming keels. 
There honoured rest in undisturbed repose 
From crimson conquest and corroding woes, 
The gallant warriors who to glory gave 
Their country's banner o'er the boisterous wave ; 
And fearless followed where it floated high 
O'er weltering hosts, with freedom's wild war-cry. 
There hailed by heroes, by their country blest, 
By comrades welcomed, and by parents prest ; 
With noble thoughts they boast their country's 

name. 
Her splendid triumphs on the fields of fame ; 
And tell the wreaths in glorious conquest won, 
From cities taken, and their foes undone. 
But hark, what strains from yonder temple swell 
Soft as the notes of concord's sweetest shell, 
Where in long lines throus;hout the lengthened isle 
Misfortune's sons in sad procession file, 
No home, no friends, no kindred there they claim. 
Yet none shall scorn them, or their sorrows blame; 
The Eternal Father, Power they adore, 
Protects his people though their souls deplore ; 
Surveys their rights, and shall their wrongs redress, 
Confuse their tyrants and their fears oppress. 

6 



58 COSMOPOLIS. 

But see where Science smiling charms the scene; 

The blooming laurels and the college green, 

The gliding Comite, and the cool retreats 

From bustling business and the burning streets ; 

Where oft the Muses and the Graces deign, 

In social mirth to join the jovial train, 

And shed their blessings o'er each joyous heart 

That loves to linger round the works of art, 

The charms of nature, and the vocal grove. 

The smiles of beauty, and the scenes of love ; 

Where Heaven imparts to each enamoured breast. 

The hopes of rapture, and Elysian rest — 

Vain hopes to lure through life's contracted span, 

The restless spirit of aspiring man ! 

Deluded man, still doomed to hopes and fears, 

Alternate raptures, and embittering tears ! 

But whence, O Muse, to dry those tears, have 

sprung 
Those stately mansions that thy strains have 

sung? 
Did pitying Love from yonder sphere bestow 
Those godlike blessings on forsaken wo ; 
And show, by science, through obscuring night. 
The sacred pathway to immortal light ? 



COSMOPOLIS. 59 

Say, did incarnate angels stoop to earth 

To rear those wonders of celestial worth, 

And give to nations of each age and clime 

Perpetual blessings through unbounded time 1 

No ; pitying Heaven to the human race 

Sent down its spirit through ethereal space 

To robe a mortal with immortal grace ; 

That admiring millions might behold 

The fruits of worth, through future time unfold ; 

The fame Girard by boundless bounty won, 

The noblest acts of charity, outdone ; 

Yea, all the triumphs earth hath ever known 

Since Love descended from his holy throne. 

From blood-stained Calvary, o'er benighted earth 

To shed the halo of his heavenly birth. 

So bards will sing, when loud their harps shall roll. 

Thy deathless glory to the distant pole ; 

And new-found nations from their frozen plains 

Respond, with rapture, to the rolling strain ; 

When Science' foundlings, fostered by thy care. 

Shall all thy triumphs to the world declare ; 

And misery's sons in grateful numbers tell 

The name they'll cherish, and they'll love so well. 

O, then on glory's hallowed height shall shine 

With dazzling radiance, in its robes divine, 



60 COSMOPOLIS. 

A form that burnished by the lapse of time, 
Shall soar for ever in its flight sublime ; 
And glow through heaven with intenser ray, 
As planets, suns, and systems shall decay. 



THE CONTRAST. 

"Two principles in human nature reign, 
Self-love to urge, and reason to restrain.'" — Pope. 

From the same source the acts of mortals spring, 
So nature teaches, an^ the minstrels sing : 
Self is the source, and bliss is still the aim ; 
The routes are different, though the end 's the same. 
For many, lost in Nature's boundless maze. 
Pursue but phantoms in the sound of praise, 
And find, too late, when far by Fancy led, 
The flowers fruitless in the paths they tread ; 
While others, urged by Reason's austere guide, 
Succumb to virtue, and curtail their pride ; 
O'er rugged rocks the paths to glory tread. 
And seek the substance in the shadow's stead. 
But look around, and two examples take — 
Take one for virtue's, one for vice's sake. 
And learn a lesson that mankind can teach, 
A priest, a pagan, or a poet preach. 
See here a mind despondent stoop below 
Its native sphere to drink the dregs of wo ; 

6* 



62 



THE CONTRAST. 



A wretched outcast, helpless and forlorn. 
Endowed with talents, yet a thing of scorn ; 
A being blest, intemperance' early slave, 
Through manhood hurrying to an early grave, 
Offending Nature in the noon of day 
By vilely throwing her best gifts away. 
Perverted Pride deserted Reason's reign, 
And left no curb his passion to restrain. 
Impetuous impulse and allurements bright, 
Insatiate lonsfin^s for conceived deli2;ht. 
And vulgar praise, to low ambition dear. 
Perfected ruin in his mad career. 
Ah, had he walked where Heaven had marked the 

way. 
And learned in youth her precepts to obey, 
With filial love her virtues to revere, 
And view her beauties in the blooming year, 
When spring with blossoms decks each sylvan scene. 
Enamelling nature in her robes of green ; 
When woodland warblers wake their merriest lay 
To welcome nature and the orient day ; 
Exquisite bliss, through life's sequestered vale, 
Had love imparted to each passing gale. 
And converse sweet unto the lowly given, 
Ecstatic visions and the peace of heaven. 



THE CONTRAST. 63 

But deep and dark the deadly passions grew, 

Each lingering virtue blotting from the view, 

Till stern Remorse and deep-corroding Care 

Left not a vestige of its being there. 

Delaying Death, the only solace, came 

To quench the last of life's expiring flame, 

And o'er the wreck of youthful virtues throw 

The only boon that Mercy could bestow — 

Oblivion's pall to shroud his sable hearse. 

And hide from earth Ambition's awful curse. 

When Pride perverted turns from heaven the mind. 

And makes the best the basest of mankind. 

No tears of sorrow o'er his grave shall fall. 

No memories sweet his former acts recall, 

No fairy forms by twilight lingering stay, 

And o'er his tomb the debt of virtue pay. 

No glory's light, youth's dawning hopes to cheer, 

Shall sadly o'er his sepulchre appear; 

Through latest time its hallowing influence shed, 

The sad memorial of the illustrious dead. 

Far different he the hoary-headed Sage, 

By youth respected, and esteemed by age, 

Though time unsparing, o'er his stately form 

Hath winged the fury of its trying storm. 



64 THECONTRAST. 

Not thus his locks with age were silvered o'er. 
When first he travelled to our southern shore, 
And left the mountains 'nealh his native sky. 
To seek alone a distant destiny. 
No hamlets then along the margin low, 
Rose where the waters of the valley flow ; 
There deep and dark the forest wood o'erhung, 
And wild the war-cry of the Indian rung ; 
While in each tall, impenetrable brake 
Crouched the fierce panther and the rattlesnake, 
And prowling near the barking fox was heard, 
The bear's gruff grunting and the hooting bird. 
Not then a city with its villas shone 
High on yon bluff; but waving woods alone ; 
While Indian huts, and the frequenting deer, 
And rabid wolves, were all familiar here. 
E'en here the bison held his boundless reign. 
And trod untrammeled o'er the flow'ry plain. 
Then o'er his brow the raven ringlets fell ; 
And nerved his breast a spirit to excel ; 
With eyes of genius, and aspiring soul 
That aims alone at glory's loftiest goal ; 
Not such as earth, or earthly things would claim, 
A noble object worthy of their aim, 



THE CONTRAST. 65 

The loud applauses of unmeaning praise, 

That any worthless demagogue can raise ; 

An empty title by a breath conferred ; 

A useless bauble, or a sounding word : 

Not these he sought ; nor these his soul could move ; 

A soul of virtue, and unbounded love, 

Where e'en the brutes of nature's faithful kind, 

Could care paternal, and protection find ; 

But virtue's meeds, by.'virtue's self conferred, 

These were his aims, and these his life endeared ; 

These heaven bestowed, when years of toil had 

won; 
And blest the labours that his youth begun. 
But deem not thence his spirit free from care ; 
Nor think that all was beautiful and fair. 
Though beauty smiled and beaming hope awhile. 
To cheer his spirit, and relieve his toil, 
When young lulus to his prayer was given, 
And beauteous Mary, as the boons of heaven ; 
Yet ah, how bitter were the pangs he bore, 
When Heaven invidious from his bosom tore 
The endearing hope ! the enrapturing joy ! 
The father's glory in his blooming boy ! 
Long in his grief he owned the fatal blow, 
Till Heaven assuaged the unmitigated wo 



66 THECONTRAST. 

And gave, to cheer with virtue's rays divine 
The hngering tvi'ilight of his slow decline, 
The auspicious offspring, the reviving ray, 
And guardian angel of his last decay. 
When calm in death his aged eyes shall close, 
And soar his spirit to its high repose, 
What filial tears will o'er his relics flow, 
Affection's tribute from the depths of wo ! 
What grateful beings will with anguish mourn 
The guardian parent from their presence borne 
To bright abodes, the mansions of the blest. 
To dwell with rapture in eternal rest ! 
And when in future years, from history's seer 
His gifted children shall admiring henr 
Their parent's precepts, and his proud career, 
Some infant genius with ethereal fire. 
And lofty virtues, will like him aspire. 
Engrave the tablets of immortal Fame 
With Virtue's triumphs and a Turner's name. 



THE HOPELESS. 

The cheek may still retain its glow, 

The lips their rosy hue, 
But there are blighted charms that lie 

Concealed from every view. 
Gaze on that brow : 'tis smooth and fair, 

No furrows there you see, 
But in that breast there throbs a heart 

That's fraught with agony. 
Those eyes may beam with feigned delight. 

Those scornful lips may smile, 
But dark ambition lurks beneath, 

And vain is every guile. 
But not ambition dwells alone. 

With all its dark distress. 
For fiercer passions ruling there 

Prevent its peacefulness. 
I knew that form in boyhood's day, 

In brighter climes afar, 
Ere youth had owned the tyrant's sway. 

The demon of despair. 



68 



THE HOPELESS. 

Then pleasure lit that beaming eye, 

And love's fraternal fire ; 
No stormy passions dwelt within, 

To bid the soul aspire. 
And when at even's twilieht hour 

Upon his throbbing breast. 
Two lovely forms of beauty's mould 

Would oft in rapture rest, 
His happy soul did fondly turn 

To scenes of childhood's day. 
And little thought how soon in death 

Would all his hopes decay. 
But short 's the date to pleasure given 

By time's resistless sway ; 
And youth must bow beneath the power 

The proudest hearts obey. 
He heard of fame on battle fields. 

Upon the raging deep ; 
And visions bright at midnight hour 

Disturbed his quiet sleep, 
And fancy bore him to the strife, 

Amid the clash of arms. 
Where rang the peal of warrior's shout, 
And trumpet's shrill alarms. 



THE HOPELESS. 

He saw the steeds to battle driven, 

The pennons waving high, 
The gleaming lance and corslet bright 

In glittering fragments fly ; 
He saw the blood in torrents stream 

From wounded, dead, and dying; 
He saw the warriors eager press 

Upon the foemen flying ; 
He heard the charger thundering by ; 

He heard the wild war cry. 
And saw the light of demon wrath 

That flashed from every eye. 
And as he gazed upon the field, 

Upon the thousands slain, 
A tear-drop dimmed his pitying eye, 

And mercy held her reign. 
Then fast the tears of sorrow fell 

That flowed for human wo — 
Ah, few the hearts those pangs can feel 

That taught those tears to flow. 
Then Science came with soul serene 

To lure him to her path. 
And much she spoke of bloody strife 

And warriors' deadly wrath ; 
7 



69 



70 



THE HOPELESS. 

Of fame upon the battle field, 

Where warriors vainly bleed, 
Return unto their mother earth 

The reptile worms to feed. 
How fame was only known to live 

Where science held her sway. 
And much she spoke of Chaldea's reign. 

And Egypt's brighter day ; 
Of Greece, renowned for every art. 

And Homer's matchless lay, 
That still survived the lapse of time 

While nations passed away ; 
Of him who wrote historic lore. 

The first on history's page, 
That brightly shone, and long shall shine 

In every clime and age. 
Well pleased he followed in her path, 

And thought of future fame. 
When high enrolled on glory's list 

Would shine his matchless name. 
Long, long he worshipped at her shrine, 

Until a hapless day 
He met the glance of Beauty's eye, 

And owned her magic sway ; 



THEHOPELESS. 71 

And then a flame did fiercer burn 

Than dark ambition's fire — 
Fame was forgot — and wisdom loo — 

All save his soul's desire. 
And close within his burning breast, 

(/oncealed from every eye, 
He cherished still that object dear, 

Though all the rest did die. 
And oft, O oft in solitude 

The silent tears would flow — 
Unpitying eyes that ne'er beheld 

Can scarce conceive his wo ; 
For she did on him coldly gaze 

When glowed his crimson cheek. 
And oft the smothered smile of scorn 

Around her lips would break. 
He sadly saw that she was changed — 

She owned another's sway — 
And knew his lamp of life within 

Was going to decay ; 
For wisdom, love, ambition, fame, 

Had each his bosom fired. 
And each fond cherished hope of his 

Had in its bloom expired. 

Lexington, Ky., Feb. 16, 1838. 



REFLECTIONS. 

Where'er we turn, whatever climes explore, 
From Falkland isle to dreary Labrador, 
What lingering tokens tell of slow decay, 
Of potent nations that have passed away, 
Of varying nature and subverting time. 
The meanest objects and the most sublime ! 
E'en here, where first my vital breath I drew, 
And first the mercies of kind nature knew, 
With pensive mind her wonders I survey, 
These rise to light, and those to earth decay. 
Here the last relic of some ruined race. 
Of lofty virtues and celestial grace, 
The fatal dart that winged with deadly speed, 
Gave fame to earth of some heroic deed. 
Survives the ravage of devouring time, 
The lapse of ages and the change of clime; 
While they who owed their glory to its aid. 
And trod the earth as though the world they made, 
Have back returned to whence their being sprung, 
Tf 'r fame forgotten and their names unsung. 



REFLECTIONS. 73 

No more the welkin shall their war-shout ring ; 

No more their chargers to the battle spring, 

Or hecatombs of murdered millions rise, 

Offending heaven — a human sacrifice. 

And lo, the lofty tumuli appear. 

Mysterious mounds amid the desert drear,^® 

With oaks high towering o'er the waving wood, 

That have for ages on their summits stood. 

Who can disclose the secrets of their womb, 

And tell their history from the silent tomb ? 

Or whence declare those conquering chieftains came 

To rear these lofty monuments of fame? 

Perchance, like Scythia's offspring in their course, 

Who erst o'er Asia with resistless force 

Poured the dark torrent of their dreadful sway 

Till trembling Egypt bought their wrath away,^" 

They, once as potent in their prosperous day, 

Subverting Science in her sad decay. 

Left not a vestige of her reign behind 

To tell the triumphs of the immortal mind. 

And lo, the relics of the brutes that trod 

The reedy valley and the verdant sod ; 

Their mouldering bones that tell their monstrous 

size. 
The lands they travelled 'neath inclement skies : 



74 REFLECTIONS. 

Far to the north, around the icy pole, 
Where stormy clouds through endless winter roll, 
And nousrht of verdure decks the frozen land, 
Their widespread fragments strew the barren 

strand.^'' 
And see the spoils, from mountain summits torn, 
Adown the tide of mighty rivers borne. 
The wasting highlands, the receding sea ; 
And rising worlds of far futurity, 
Where art and science shall revive again. 
As erst on Shinar's or Illissus' plain, 
Till earth, exhausted of her inward store, 
Shall feed her fiery furnaces no more, 
Nor give to swell the torrent's furious tide 
The melting tributes of the mountain's side, 
But tottering sink to nature's awful womb. 
The dark, the dread, the universal tomb, 
Whence, back to her primeval chaos hurled. 
Shall spring the wonders of a new-born world. 
Natchez, 1841. 



GREECE AND AMERICA. 

When Greece beheld the pride of Persia pour 
Her hostile legions to her barren shore, 
And proud Oppression lift his brazen spear 
To shed his terrors o'er the fields of fear. 
Her soul, exulting in her warriors' might. 
Prepared her pajan and provoked the fight ; 
Then lofty deeds inspired her patriots' breast, 
And conquest perched upon her champions' crest ; 
Then Freedom's sons, the simple wreath to wear, 
Did all the dangers of the conflict dare, 
And boldly rush where glory's guiding star. 
Refulgent flittered in the din of war. 
Such Athens was, the light of all her host, 
Ere sank her warriors on Sicilia's coast. 
Such Sparta, too, when fierce o'er Asia's plain 
Her standard flew, and triumphed on the main. 
Such Corinth was when first Timoleon taught, 
That Freedom conquered where her champion 
fought. 



76 GREECE AND AMERICA. 

Such was Boeotia, such Arcadia too, 

Ere Philopoemen bade the world adieu; 

When Discord's arm unsheathed the ruthless sword, 

And onward rushed each fierce barbarian horde. 

Then lofty themes prolonged the poet's lay ; 

Fair science rose refulgent as the day ; 

And songs divine, the patriot's bosom fired. 

His genius kindled, and his soul inspired. 

Land of my birth ! where Freedom holds her reign. 

And smiles exulting o'er the fruitful plain, 

When from those days, where Grecian glories 

shone, 
Whose lights have faded, and for ever gone ; 
I turn to thee, and view thy beacon lights. 
Thy bonfires blazing from an hundred heights, — 
Thy flags unfurled and fluttering to the breeze, 
From lofty masts, like stately forest trees ; 
And hear the shouts from freeborn millions rise. 
With cannon peals resounding through the skies ; 
When those I see, and these exulting hear. 
With rapture's thrill, loud bursting on my ear ; 
And back recall those warlike sons of worth, 
Now silent mouldering to their mother earth. 



GREECEANDAM ERICA. "77 

Who boldly braved the Tyrant's hardened hate, 
The dungeon's dampness, and the frowns of fate, 
When fair Columbia first her falchion drew ; 
And Freedom's banner 'mid her battle flew ; 
I feel there lives a spirit breathed of yore, 
That still survives on fair Columbia's shore; 
That glorious deeds as e'er the Grecian fired, 
To touch his harp with heavenly lays inspired, 
Some future bard, in Freedom's favoured reign, 
Shall sound immortal in his lofty strain. 

Grand Lake, Ark., 1839. 



TIME. 

Onward, onward, for ev^er onward still, 
Untiring time obeys the Maker's will. 
Nations may rise, may flourish, and decay, 
Yet Time unceasing wings his wondrous way. 
The lightning's wrath may scathe the mountain's 

peak. 
The earthquake's shock its craggy basement break ; 
The tides and tempests change the mountain height. 
Bring depths unknown, to science and to light ; 
Yet still unchanged, for ave unchancred to be, 
Shall roll the wheels of Time — Eternity ! 
Give fancy reign, and speed her peerless flight, 
How short her liinit, and how faint her light — 
How small the spot — how scant is human lore, 
Compared with thee that shall be evermore ; 
That back extends where Fancy ne'er can fly ; 
Where Science faints, and Genius' self would die? 
O man ! aspiring insect of a day ! 
How short thy triumph, and how weak thy sway ! 



TIME. 79 

How vain thy efforts ever to engage 
Science and Art of every clime and age, 
Some frail memorial of thy fame to rear, 
That soon shall vanish as thy transient tear? 
Where now the wreath that crowned the hero's 

bust? 
Where now the millions prostrate in the dust ? 
Where mausoleum, cenotaph, and toinb? 
Where Ceesar's prowess — Cleopatra's bloom ? 
O, where the pride that Ethiopia owned. 
When Egypt saw her warlike kings enthroned ?^^ 
The wise, the valiant, and the great, 
Ere India met a worse than Roman fate, 
The founders of her laws, religion, and her fame, 
Ere Egypt was, or yet without a name T^^ 
Thou silent mystery to science and to man, 
That every age and every clime can scan, 
'Tis thine alone, those secrets to unfold, 
Oblivion shadows from the world, untold; 
'Tis thine to teach that genius fades away, 
Like clouds that vanish with retiring day; 
That glory's sheen is but the light that's given, 
To deck the mortal in the hues of heaven ! 

Natchez. 



GOD'S MERCY. 

The starry sky 's above me spread, 
The flow'ry earth below ; 

And every sylvan scene I tread, 
Thy tender nnercies show. 

Thy wisdom and thy glory too, 
With thy unbounded love. 

In all thy works, O Lord, I view, 
Beneath me, and above. 

Then shall I grovel in the dust, 
Bowed down with slavish dread ; 

Or in thy love, O Father, trust. 
And rear my humbled head ? 

O, let me on thy mercies lean ; 

My soul elated rise, 
Each darkening doubt for ever wean, 

And learn thy love to prize. 



god'smercy. 81 

Yes, through thy garden here below. 

Thy Paradise of Earth, 
Enjoy the fruits that sweetly grow. 

Of wisdom, and of mirth. 

And when my little day is o'er, 

My chrysalis is cast, 
I will not weep that I must soar, 

And dwell with' Thee at last. 

Natchez, February, 1848. 



THE SOUL'S DESTINY. 

O, WHITHER, whither shall we turn, 
Nor see thy wondrous sway, 

Thy glorious light for ever burn, 
Refulgent as the day ! 

If earth's profound we speechless tread, 
To view thy wonders there, 

How shall we see thy splendours spread 
Beyond terrestrial air! 

How wander to primeval time. 

When systems first began, 
Ere passion and polluting crime 

Oppressed the soul of man ! 

To thee. Almighty Power Divine, 
The unfettered soul shall flee. 

And see thy hallowed radiance shine 
Through all eternity! 



thesoul'sdestiny. 83 

The silent earth his corse shall keep — 

Mere tenement of clay — 
When man shall waken from his sleep 

To life's eternal day. 

But brighter spheres his soul shall view, 

With strength to comprehend, 
And see these mundane scenes renew, 

Their origin, and end ; 

When bursting from its earthly tie, 

And every charm that's given 
To lure it from its native sky, 

It plumes its flight for heaven ! 



GRACE. 

O WHO can contemplate yon bright world of bliss, 
T'hen turn to the shadows of glory in this, 
Where death and diseases, with grief and despair, 
The offsprings of anguish, in agony tear. 

O, our home is not here — to heaven we'll soar. 
Where sin with its darkness shall shroud us no more, 
But angels arrayed in their raiments of light 
Receive us with rapture from regions of night. 

O, cease then to grieve, for this exile will end, 
And our souls to yon heaven with transport ascend 
On the pinions of love, that triumphantly bear 
The children of grief from this world of despair. 

O shout then with joy for the grace that is given 
To bear us from earth to our home in the heaven, 
Where the anthem of angels shall welcome on high 
The just to those raptures that never can die. 

Columbia, Ark., 1839. 



VANITY OF EARTHLY TIES. 

Ar.As! the fairest scenes must change, 

The hopes we cherish die, 
And heavenly thoughts the soul estrange 

From each terrestrial tie. 

The crimson blush on beauty's cheek, 

Her brightly beaming eye, 
And tones that to the spirit speak. 

Are frail mortality. 

There's not a charm the earth can give — 

There's not a tie can bind 
The soul that shall for ever live 

In regions undefined. 



o 



E'en he whose sceptre swayed the world 
With sorrow turned to weep,"" 

That all should be to chaos hurled, 
And in oblivion sleep; 
8* 



86 VANITY OF EARTHLY TIES. 

That but a few brief years should pass, 
When all his host would be 

Like autumn leaves o'er withered grass, 
Or bubbles on the sea. 

And he whose strains transcendent rose 

To triumph in each clime, 
In secret wept o'er human woes 

That bowed his soul sublime ; 

His towering genius soared on high. 
Surveyed each glorious sphere, 

Then stooped to earth in agony. 
And closed its bright career. 

The sages of illustrious Greece, 
The shades of bards divine, 

Beheld his struggling soul's release, 
And the immortal shine. 

And oh, in peace beyond the grave 
That bliss alone can bloom. 

That flees us o'er life's stormy wave, 
And lures us to the tomb. 

Clinton, I,a., 1841. 



THE TOMB. 

Go gaze upon the gilded urn 

That mocks the sacred trust, 
Where genius' flame shall ne'er return 

To animate its dust ; 
And if no griefs pervade thy breast, 
For them that 'nealh the green turf rest, 
In vain I'll try to tell thee why 
I weep for them that early die. 

Go read the inscription written there 
In golden letters, glittering bright, 

Inscribed with all the artist's care. 
The proud to flatter and delight; 

And if thy soul doth not rebel, 

That stone must all our sorrows tell; 

Then ask not why with tearful eye 

I weep for them that early die. 

Go where the grass is waving high 
Above the wretches' lowly tomb. 

And night winds sweep with plaintive sigh 
Amid the dark sepulchral gloom ; 



8S T H E T O M B. 

And ask the sounds that munnur there, 
What message from the dead tfiey bear; 
And if they sigh "all tearless lie," 
Ask not who weeps for them that die. 

Go where the moonbeam's mellow light 
Waves o'er the weeping willow trees, 
And marble columns, sadly bright, 
The pensive eye of fancy please ; 
And ask who comes at night to weep 
O'er them that 'neath the green turf sleep 
And thy re[)ly shall be a sigh, 
" How few do weep for them that die." 

Natchez, 1839. 



HOWARD. 

O, CHILL is the night air, and cold is this tomb, 
But colder those relics that rest in its womb. 
In darkness and silence, O long shalt thou sleep. 
Though the friend of thy boyhood, in anguish shall 
weep. 

Yon bright stars in heaven for ever shall shine, 
But death is thy sleep, they can never be thine. 
No sun in his glory, from the zenith on high, 
Shall beam with his lustre, to illumine thine eye. 

No anthem of friendship, that floats on the gale, 
Can swell in thine ears 'neath the clods of the vale ; 
Not the lightning's bright flash, nor the thunder's 

loud peal, 
Can waken thy deafness, or thine eyelids unseal ; 

Yet the friend of thy youth, when twilight shall 

close, 
Shall seek the sad tomb where thy relics repose ; 



90 HOWARD. 

And the tears of his sorrow, by starliglit, shall flow, 
h no fi 
know. 



Though no friend of his bosom its anguish shall 



But the spirits that soar from the dust of the dead, 
O'er the minstrel their halo of glory shall shed, 
To illumine with virtues from regions above, 
The bosom that thrills with the emotions of love. 
Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



WILLIAM. 

Sleep on in the shroud that obHvion hath cast, 
Like a mantle of darkness, around thee. 

Sleep on, t'nr the proud with their pageant have 
past, 
And the brightness of beauty that bound thee. 

No tears o'er thy grave by thy kindred were shed ; 

No oftei'ings of sorrow they paid thee; 
But strangers, in silence, surrounded thy bed, 

And alone in thy dwelUng they laid thee. 

No monument tells where thy relics repose ; 
Or the wrong that to ruin betrayed thee, 
When clouds o'er thy vision of rapture arose, 
•And the mantle of sorrow arrayed thee. 

Yet still in our minds shall thy memory live, 
And our spirits in silence deplore thee, 

Though hope ne'er a glimmering of joy shall give. 
Or time to our bosoms restore thee. 



92 WILLIAM. 

Sleep on, for the pangs that atfection hath borne, 
In thy dwelling of darkness would grieve thee. 

Sleep on, for the hearts that affection hath torn, 
Have but tributes of anguish to leave thee. 

Natchez, 1842. 



TWILIGHT. 

There is an hour, that lures our thoughts to heaven, 

That tells us of our fallen lot ; 
When twilight lingers on the verge of even, 

And earthly cares are all forgot ; 

When from its tenement to spheres above, 

The spirit gazing with delight, 
Soars on the pinions of celestial love, 

To heaven's aerial height. • 

It is the hour when glories gild the west; 

Earth's brightest prospects fade away ; 
And nature sinking to her silent rest, 

Becomes the emblem of decay; 

When o'er the soul a chastening sadness steals. 

That slowly starts the silent tear. 
While cheering hope triumphantly reveals 

The vision of a brighter sphere ; 

9 



94 TWILIGHT. 

When beckoning spirits on their heavenly height, 

Hail from their battlements above, 
The wanderer struggling through the shades of 
night, 

To mansions of immortal love. 

Who hath not owned the influence of that hour, 
And sighed o'er earth's illusive sway? 

Who hath not felt that spirit-kindling power. 
That warms us with celestial ray ? 

Cold is his heart and clouded is his sight, 
Who ne'er from earth's contracted span, 

Hath viewed in triumph through the shades of night, 
The glories of immortal man. 

I<exington, Ky., 1838. 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. 

There is a joy that never dies ; 

A fadeless beauty too, 
That blooms as an immortal prize, 

For ever in thy 'view. 

Nor Wealth, nor Fame, can e'er bestow, 

The raptures they impart ; 
Not e'en the charm of woman's glow, 

That chains Devotion's heart. 

O, I have bowed at Beauty's shrine — 

With rapture I have knelt. 
And thought those transports only mine, 

That few alone have felt. 

I've seen the bliss that wealth bestows. 

The sordid self-devotion, 
The cares, the pains, the secret throes, 

The writhing heart's emotion. 



96 COMMUNION WITH NATURE. 

I've seen the trophied works of Fame, 

That towered to the sky ; 
I've seen the monumental name 

For immortahty. 

But Time swept by with silent wing. 
And Beauty's crimson glow 

Drooped, like the blossoms of the spring 
Beneath the winter's snow. 

And Avarice, with callous heart. 
And wandering, haggard eye, 

Did at his touch in terror start. 
To grovel, groan, and die. 

And o'er the wondrous works of Fame 
His darkening shade he cast — 

The solid stone — the illustrious name — 
Departed as he past. 

O, wouldst thou ask the immortal prize 

For ever in thy view ? 
The nameless joy that never dies — 

The fadeless beauty too I 



C O M M U N I O N W I T H N A T L; R E . 1)7 

Turn to the glories of yon sky, 

Thy wandering soul's retreat; 
Earth's beauties too, that never die, 

Unfolding at thy feet. 

O canst thou sweet communion hold 

With these that God hath given, 
Thy soul immortal to unfold. 

And lure its flight to heaven? 

Then rise triumphant in thy right. 

Rejoice with rapture here ; 
Earth limits not thy spirit's flight, 

Nor bounds thy bright career. 

Natchez, March, 1848. 



9* 



BOOK OF NATURE. 

Behold the book of every clime and age, 
Where God instructs the ignorant and sage, 
That erring man, with aught of reason blest, 
Alike can study with the wise and best; 
And studying, learn what heaven has deigned to 

show. 
Enough for man's weak faculties to know, 
To guide him on within his narrow sphere. 
To act aright, and do his duty here. 
When Heaven descends, and deigns weak man to 

teach, 
Shall reason slumber? Shall the pedant preach, 
And man, his dupe, obscure the immortal ray 
To trudge a vassal to a thing of clay? 
For shame ! that e'en in freedom's favoured reign 
' Weak man should glory in the tyrant's chain. 
And turn from truths that nature's self records 
In characters as legible as words. 
Sweet music floats upon the fragrant gale: 
We hear vviih rapture, and the breeze inhale; 



BOOKOFNATURE. 99 

The soul elated owns the ethereal glow, 

And earth becomes a paradise below. 

Dense vapours rise; disease pervades the air 

Of vipers hissing from their fenny lair, 

And pallid man, with agonizing breath, 

Inhales their poison in the pangs of death. 

To him earth's beauties are but trifling things — 

'Tis hell in horror — its scorpions and its stings. 

This diflerence in sentiiVient.we see 

Throughout mankind, and thus 'twill ever be. 

Some see but parts, but very few the whole — 

These know the line, and those the frozen pole: 

These say 'tis warm, and those that it is cold — 

Few judge by reason, most as they behold. 

DitTerent splieres for different things designed 

Bespeak the goodness of the Almighty Mind. 

Earth was not made for man alone to tread — 

'Tis said Elijah was by ravens fed — 

This mighty lord of mundane things below , 

A frail dependant on a cawing crow ! 

But man for earth was made — not man alone. 

Who makes his sceptre and erects his throne ; 

But everything with animation given — 

The worm that crawls, the proudest heir of heaven. 



100 BOOK OF NATURE. 

These, taught by nature, seek their proper course, 
Where instinct urges with unerring force; 
And having done what Heaven designed to do, 
Cease their brief being, and their race renew. 
But man, the thing with erring reason blest, 
Assumes the lord, and rules it o'er the rest ; 
Looks but to reason, and obscures the light 
That nature gives him but to guide him right: 
Perverts the powers that Heaven in mercy gave, 
And treads the earth a tyrant and a slave — 
Slave to vile passions that pollute the mind. 
And make the best the basest of mankind. 

Natchez, Oct. 1847. 



DEATH OF BENJAMIN HOWARD 
WICKLIFFE, 

OF LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY. 

Shall the sad harp hang silent and unstrung, 
While genius sleeps unhonoured and unsung. 
And not one strain in mournful numbers swell 
Its last sad requiem and its long farewell 1 
Cut off, alas ! in manhood's earliest date, 
Ere rose thy spirit with its strength elate. 
Flapped its fledged wings, and plumed its daring 

flight 
For Fame's far temple on her craggy height, 
O how shall Friendship's feeble tributes flow 
To tell the pangs of never-ceasing wo? 
How swell his strains thy virtues to proclaim, 
And tell thy prospects in the paths to fame '. 
Adorned with grace, with every virtue blest, 
Each nobler thought was nourished in thy breast; 
Each generous feeling of the exalted mind. 
That worth can cherish or affection bind ; 



102 DEATH OF BENJAMIN HOWARD WICKLIFFE. 

Each pure desire that claims the loftiest aim, 

The smiles of science and the wreaths of fame — 

All, all were thine, and gave thee prospects fair. 

To blast our hopes and leave us to despair. 

So early lost, so sadly now deplored, 

Beloved in life, and in thy death adored. 

The sounds of praise that swell from all who knew, 

Tell the bright honours to thy virtues due. 

Nor shalt thou sink unhonoured to the tomb. 

For laurel wreaths around thy name shall bloom, 

Entwined by genius, with powers all thine own, 

That long shall bloom unrivalled and alone. 

Yes, soon the day-star of thy hope shall rise 

With dazzling splendour in its native skies, 

And far diffuse through Freedom's favoured sphere 

The bright effulgence of its young career. 

Admiring millions shall its rise proclaim. 

Its warmth acknowledge, and adore its flame; 

And struggling senates, lightened by its ray, 

Shall truth discover and her laws obey. 

E'en now methinks the thundering shouts I hear, 

A nation's plaudit, pealing on mine ear. 

While borne aloft ascends thine honoured name 

To deck the annals of immortal fame. 



DEATH OF BENJAMIN HOWARD WICKI.IFFE. 103 

But O, that thou hadst lived to manhood's prime, 

And soared triumphant in thy flight sublime; 

Thy country then had hailed thy bright return, 

Not twined the cypress round thy mournful urn. 

But fate forbade — thy relics only left 

To soothe each bosom of thv worth bereft, 

And fill the space — the narrow house of death, 

Were all, alas ! thy spirit could bequeath. 

The blushing spring-flowers now that nodding wave 

O'er the green grass that decks thy verdant grave, 

The mournful tokens time shall soon efface. 

Are all that mark thy last sad resting-place. 

The silent tears aflection bade to flow 

Taught these frail emblems o'er thy grave to grow. 

Memorials of life's transitory power. 

That springs in anguish, and withers like each 

flower ; 
But as the crushed flowers doth their scent exhale. 
And give their fragrance to each passing gale, 
E'en thus doth genius from the silent tomb 
Spring into being, and immortal bloom. 
Ah! oft the dart from death's unerring bow 
Wings its swift flight, and lays the victim low. 
Confirming fate, in Heaven's high decree, 
That dooms unheard in sapient secrecy ; 



104 DEATH OF BENJAMIN HOWARD WICKLIFFE. 

The toil of years, ambition's daring scheme, 
The poet's vision and the lover's dream, 
To chaos hurling in its dreadful flight, 
And clothing beauty with the robes of night. 
Ah, many have marked the sad approaching day, 
And seen their hopes like shadows fade away; 
Incessant toiled, and trod the rugged road 
That led throuo-h anguish to their last abode. 
Prescient of death, the approaching hour was 

known 
Ere the sure shaft had for its victim flown, 
And girt with wisdom, strengthened for the flight, 
Thy spirit soared triumphant in its light. 
And O, if now from heaven's ethereal space, 
Immortals mindful of iheir mortal race, 
Thy radiant orb doth downward roll to earth, 
To view the mjinsions of thy mortal birth, 
Those happy scenes that boyhood's days endeared. 
Where all thy visions of the past were reared, 
When many a gay and gallant bosom prest 
The turf where now their mouldering relics rest, — 
O gaze in pity on the bleeding heart 
Thou first beheldst in pangs of anguish part. 
When sped the shaft of vengeance from afar. 
And darkness gathered round my guiding star. 



DEATH OF BENJAMIN HOWARD WICKLIFFE. 105 

For O, what griefs do now thy pity claim 
For him who weeps o'er genius' perished flame, 
His friend departed and his vision flown, 
His prospects clouded and himself alone. 

Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



10 



DEATH OF A LADY, 

OF LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY. 

The blushing spring flowers bloom above thy head; 

The verdant turf is o'er thy dwelling spread, 

And nature's sweetest symphonies are heard 

From every grove by gratitude endeared. 

But not for thee are all those charms displayed. 

And nature now in spring's bright robes arrayed : 

Ah, not for thee do choral strains arise. 

And beauty's tints adorn the orient skies. 

Too soon to earth the dreadful summons came, 

Closed thy mild eye and shook thy feeble frame ; 

Too soon thy spirit left its earthly sphere, 

And friends forlorn to weep thine absence here. 

But here survive the works thy virtues left 

To soothe each heart of other hopes bereft, 

And swell the sounds of friendship's grateful lyre 

With strains affliction only can inspire. 

The smiles of heaven illumed thy dwelling here. 

And made each ofl^spring of affection dear; 



DEATHOFALADY. 107 

With filial love and virtues all thine own, 
Blest each to be thy comfort though alone ; 
Gave talents; grace and blooming beauty gave, 
All that could charm, and all the soul enslave ; 
Genius effulgent, virtue's brighter flame — 
The belle of beauty and the son of fame; 
And lengthened out the twilight of thy day 
To see their triumph, and alas! decay; 
Then from its tenement of mouldering earth 
Snatched thy pure spirit to its nobler birth, 
And gave thee back in worlds of heavenly bliss 
Thy sweetest comforts in the woes of this. 
O, if from heaven's aerial height, 
To regions now of agony and night. 
Thy soul unshrouded turns with bliss to view 
The spot on earth thy mortal being knew, 
How must it triumph in its bright career 
That left each eye bedimmed with sorrow's tear. 
And gave what few can e'er to earth bequeath. 
Hereditary charms and virtue's priceless wreath ! 
Yon marble monuments that sadly tell 
How beauty perished and how genius fell, 
Like them, with lime will vanish from the eye, 
Nor mark the spot where now their relics lie. 



108 DEATH OF A LADY. 

Their virtues only shall their deeds proclaim, 
And deeds of virtue still adorn their name — 
A name that shall to future time extend, 
The fairest cherish and the wise commend. 
Nor least will he the filial offerings bear 
Who shared thy counsels and maternal care ; 
Nor latest linger round their tombs to twine, 
Where fadeless laurels with the myrtles shine, 
The amaranthine wreath that long shall wave 
To deck the fairest and adorn the brave. 
Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



DEATH OF A LADY, 

OF CYNTHIANA, KENTUCKY. 

And thou art gone ! O, whither hast thou fled 
From this lorn world, and dwelling of the dead? 
Here, here beneath these clay-cold clods repose 
The mouldering fabric whence thy spirit rose ; 
Here waves the grass, and sighs the autumn 

breeze, 
And droop the wild flowers that thine eye could 

please ; 
Here choral strains from feathered songsters flow, 
Attuned to rapture and to meek-eyed wo. 
But thou, sweet spirit! O thou art not near; 
No midnight dirges swell upon thine ear; 
Thy bright abode is in yon starry sky. 
Where purest visions meet the attracted eye, 
And symphonies of heavenly anthems roll 
Their melting music o'er the enraptured soul, 
Till seraph beings from their blissful height. 
Elated, mingle in eternal light. 

10* 



110 DEATH OF A LADY. 

And thou art gone to thy celestial honne, 
O'er fields Elysian with the blest to roam. 
Where day unceasing sheds its brightest ray, 
And beam those joys that never can decay ; 
Where Eden zephyrs from their fragrant bowers 
Shed the sweet odours of unfading flowers, 
And seraph strains from golden harps ascend 
To Grace unbounded, that shall never end. 
Sweet spirit ! thou art gone, and here forlorn 
He weeps for thee, and must in anguish mourn, 
Till cold in death, beside thy silent clay 
A stranger's hands his wasted corse shall lay, 
When freed from earth and all that binds him here, 
His soul shall seek thee in thy glorious sphere. 
And dwell unsevered in those scenes above, 
In bliss unceasing and eternal love. 

Columbia, Ark., 1839. 



TO JAMES TOOLE Y.-** 



OF NATCHEZ. 



Time since our being hath unsparing sped ; 
Many a youth now moulders with the dead, 
Or far dispersed in foreign climes they roam, 
Without the smiles of kindred, or a home. 
The brightest genius and the noblest boasf" 
Now sadly slumbers on a northern coast ; 
The stately elms that o'er his mansion wave, 
Now cast their shadows on his silent "rave ; 
The marble monument that rears its head 
To tell where lie the relics of the dead, 
Proclaims to all what brilliant prospects shone 
For him who slumbers 'neath the sculptured stone. 
The fondled offspring of his father's pride, 
He liv^ed for glory and for science died: 
The earliest bud of genius' fairest flower, 
Untimely plucked from wisdom's brightest bower. 

And he, the wayward child of fancy, driven** 
By fortune's frowns, beneath a lowering heaven, 



112 



TO JAMES TOOLEY. 



Doth slumber now where ocean's surges sound 
Their deep-toned dirges o'er the hollow ground. 
But there at eve no pensive harp is heard, 
Like the soft music of the moonlight bird, 
To sound its strains of bliss-inspiring song, 
That soothe the breast and bear the soul along. 
Still are those hands that taught the warbling lyre 
To rouse the spirit, and its passions fire, 
And cold the heart that throbbed with genius' flame, 
That glory kindled for immortal fame. 
Like some young bay among the monarch wood, 
That twice ten years hath in its beauty stood, 
Yet scarcely blooms with youthful honours crowned, 
Ere borne by raging tempests to the ground, 
E'en thus he sprung, to flourish and to fade, 
And sunk untimely to oblivion's shade. 

And where yon pines now murmur to the breeze, 
And sylvan scenes the eye of fancy please. 
While furious rolling in their wrath below. 
The boiling billows throuarh the forest flow ; 
Where Mississippi in his native pride 
Pours a deep torrent in an endless tide. 
And bears in triumph, with impetuous sway. 
The boast of nations in his boisterous way; 



TO JAMES TOOLE Y. 



113 



His mouldering relics lie, who once could claim 

A flattering prospect in the path to fame" 

Deep in his breast he felt the fatal dart 

Poison each source, and quiver in his heart; 

Saw on his cheek the soft deceptive glow 

Of death, presaging an untimely wo. 

Martyr of Science ! in her cause he fell, 

But where he rests no wreaths his triumphs tell ; 

Yet shall the Bard" through beauty's triumphs save 

A brother's merits from the silent grave, 

And bid the marble monument relate 

His flattering prospects and his hapless fate ; 

Yes, bid to live, and future time rehearse 

His fadeless virtues in immortal verse. 

Yet still survive to honour and adorn, 
As the pure splendour of the glorious morn. 
The dawning era of no distant date. 
That darkly slumbers in the womb of fate. 
Bright germs of genius, sons of matchless ray, 
That soon shall rise to triumph in their day. 
Yes, sons of Freedom, natives of her soil, 
Who live through anguish and incessant toil, 
Who rise by virtue, and by wisdom sway. 
Adore their country, and her laws obey ; 



114 TOJAMESTOOLEY. 

O then shall themes immortal swell the lyre, 

To loftier strains than conquest can inspire; 

And bards of genius rise to sound their praise, 

Exalt their virtues and adorn their days. 

And then, perchance, thy magic art shall give. 

With fadeless beauty through long years to live, 

That unborn ages seeing may admire 

The artist's genius and the patriot's fire; 

Some sage renowned in Freedom's holy cause, 

Who won her laurels and the world's applause ; 

Some towering genius of thy native state. 

Bright with his honours 'mong the good and great ; 

When he, perchance, whose strains so sadly flow 

With secret sorrow and unceasing wo, 

O'er youthful hopes that crowd the silent tomb, 

Hopes that but sprung to perish in their bloom. 

Shall lack, alas ! the token of a tear 

From beauty's eye, o'er friendship's lowly bier. 

Natchez, 1841. 



TO EDWARD H. VAN WYCK, 

OF NEW YORK CITY. 

Full many a year has rolled away, 
And many a storm has past, 

Since first upon the ocean's wave 
Our bonny barks were cast; 

Since on the tide of ruthless time 

We set our sails together, 
And Fortune blest us with her breeze. 

The fairest of her weather. 

Ah, false and flattering was the scene 
That fancy then portrayed — 

The orient wealth of other worlds 
Enticingly arrayed ; 

And Fame's far temple on her height, 

A beacon o'er the wave. 
To light Ambition up her steep, 

Or guide him to the grave. 



116 TO EDWARD H. VAN WYCK. 

But where is China's boasted wealth, 

And India's glittering store, 
That lured thee through the tempest wrath, 

And led thee to their shore? 

And where that phantom of the mind, 

That meteor of the storm, 
That Siren to ambition's ear, 

That Proteus in its form 1 

Athwart the skv it blazed awhile — 

In darkness it is lost — 
And on the tide of ruthless time 

Our fragile barks are tost. 

Fame, wealth, and beauty, all are gone — 

The dreams of other years, 
That memory in its tomb enshrines, 

And time but still endears. 

New Orleans, Feb. 1845. 



THE MOON. 

The magi by the Nile of yore 

Beheld thy bright and lovely beam, 

And saw its silvery radiance pour 
In splendour o'er his turbid stream. 

The Chaldee from Assyria's plain, 
Or Belus' huge and lofty tower. 

Hath watched thee wane and wax again, 
Superior to each heavenly power. 

But ne'er did priest by Nile's dark shore 
E'er think thy pure and pensive ray. 

Beyond the loud Atlantic's roar, 
Would light the rivals of his sway; 

That warriors, bards, of mighty name, 
The sons of science and of song, 

Refulgent with their country's fame. 
Would triumph o'er a tyrant's wrong ; 
11 



118 THEMOON. 

/ 

That arts unki^own, would spring to light 
Beneath the touch of science' rod, 

And man proclaim his heavenly right, 
Before the altar of his God. 

Revolving years have rolled away, 
And many a nation's glory set, 

But on their ruins in decay, 

Thy brilliant rays are beaming yet. 

And when the tide of time shall cease ; 

When Egypt's flood shall flow no more. 
And dark oblivion's hand erase 

Each token of her ancient lore ; 

Thy mellow rays perchance may shine 
On Freedom's fair and favoured spot. 

To light some lone and ruined shrine, 
The emblem of her nation's lot. 



THE PYRAMIDS. 



Three thousand years have rolled away, 
A thousand storms have past, 

And there they stan'd in triumph yet, 
Through future time to last. 

There rolls the Nile his turbid stream, 
There spreads the desert wide. 

And there the waves with foaming wrath 
Still dash their angry tide. 

There mighty chieftains met in war, 
There captives bowed the neck, 

And there the ruins spreading wide 
Still speak a nation's wreck. 

'Twas there Sesostris' army past, 

And there the Arab horde ; 
And there the modern mighty chief. 

As Egypt's sovereign lord. 



120 THE PYRAMIDS. 

But where are they that marched with pride, 

The foremost to the fight ? 
And where are they that cities built, 

With gold and silver bright? 

And where is he who earth subdued, 

And nations led to war, 
When captive kings, with pride elate. 

In triumph drew his car 1 

Ask of the earth — the silent grave 
That now their dust contains — 

The mould'ring ruins of the dead, 
Where gloomy stillness reigns. 

They've gone like fancy's idle dream. 

Like mist before the sun. 
And but a lingering vestige left 

To tell their trophies won. 

And those huge piles that mark the spot 

Where science first began, 
Proclaim aloud to every age 

The vanity of man. 



THEP VRAM IDS. 121 

And as they rear their lofty heads, 

In triumph to the sky, 
Exulting Art and Science speak 

Their own supremacy. 

Lexington, Ky., 1837. 



IV 



REINTERMENT OF NAPOLEON. 

Lo ! his dust lies in peace, where his shade should 

repose ; 
Where the star of his fame from the tempest arose ; 
And his halo of glory the brightest appeared, 
When his eagles o'er Europe in triumph were 

reared. 

Lo ! his dust lies in peace, and the soldier's bright 

tear, 
O'er the storm-beaten cheek, doth illumine his bier ; 
But where tears dim the eye, and deep pangs pierce 

the heart, 
The dark wrongs of their warrior to memory start. 

There's a cloud that envelopes the tomb of the 

dead — 
A blot on the banner that to victory led — 



REINTERMENT OF NAPOLEON. 123 

And an isle in tiie deep, where that standard must 

wave, 
Ere that cloud shall depart from the tomb of the 

bra ve. 

O Gaul, shall the shade of thy Conqueror still call 
For redress from the foes who insulted his fall ; 
Whose proud vessels bore him o'er the dark-rolling 

deep, 
A lone exile in chains, on his bleak rock to weep? 

Hath the spirit of Freedom departed from earth, 
That Oppression may rule in the land of her birth, 
And the offspring of valour in agony feel 
The deep wounds to their honour, that never can 
heal? 

O, the dark clouds are gathering, the tempest draws 
nigh, 

Whence the lightnings of Freedom shall flash 
through the sky ; 

And her standard once more be in triumph un- 
furled. 

Where the rays of her glory illumined the world ; 



124 REINTERMENT OF NAPOLEON. 

When freemen shall in arms to ihe conflict advance, 
With the genius of war, o'er the green hills of 

France, 
And the Queen of the Isles for her lone kingdom 

quail, 
As the wild shrieks of vengeance shall swell on 

each gale. 

O, then shall the blot that thy fame hath defaced, 
O Gaul ! from thy flag be for ever erased ; 
And the shade of thy hero in glory repose 
Where the star of his genius in triumph arose. 

Natchez, 1841. 



QUEEN OF THE OCEAN. 

Proud Queen of the Ocean ! shall thy tyranny last, 
And nations succumb in submission to thee ? 

Shall the sound of thy clarion be heard on each 
blast 
That sweeps o'er the earth, or encircles the sea 1 

Shalt thou dictate the terms, each contest decide, 
Thou tyrant of earth, yet its arbitress be ? 

Preside o'er its counsels, with arrogant pride. 
And bound with thy limits the land of the free 1 

Still gorged with stained spoils from the powerless 
torn. 
The ruin of nations thy dwelling declare; 
But, tyrant ! the wrongs that in anguish they've 
borne. 
Shall crush thee, though crouched in the strength 
of thy lair. 



126 QtTEENOFTHEOCEAN. 

The volcano beneath thee, whose rumblings are 
heard, 
With the eruptions of vengeance shall cover thee 
o'er, 
Though thou flee from its wrath, with the wings 
of a bird. 
Or gather thy navies to environ thy shore, 

Louisville, 1844. 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The carnage has ceased — the conflict is o'er, 
The rifle's sharp peal, and the cannon's loud roar ; 
And the paean of victory, that echoed on high. 
As pranced the proud charger in battle to die. 

No more the deep groans of the dying are heard ; 
The clarion's harsh notes that to slaughter have 

stirred. 
When thundered the squadrons with terror to war, 
And rose the loud tumult of battle afar. 

No more we behold on the field of the dead, 
The champion that conquered, the hero that bled — 
The dark form of the warrior, to carnage that prest, 
With his blood-streaming falchion and high-waving 
crest. 

Those fierce scenes have faded like the bubbles of 

fame, 
The shouts of the victor, the blushes of shame ; 



128 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The brave have departed, but glory has given 
A hght to their names, Uke the lustre of heaven. 

Their bodies may moulder on the corse-covered 

plain, 
With the brave fallen foe that in battle they've slain ; 
And the green grass may spring o'er the warrior's 

low tomb, 
Where the wild fragrant flowers in beauty still 

bloom ; 

But their actions illustrious unfading shall live, 
While the breast of the gallant for conquest shall 

heave, 
And guide the young hero, when conflicts shall roar, 
O'er the tempest-tost sea, or the surf-beaten shore. 

Though beneath the blue waves of the dark raging 

deep, 
The manes of her warriors in darkness may sleep, 
That shall ne'er from their slumbers to glory awake. 
While the wrath of the billows above them shall 

break ; 

Yet the sound of her trumpet, in triumph shall tell 
How valiant they fought, and how gallant they fell ; 



HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. 129 

And Victory weep o'er the spirits that bled 
When the crown of her conquest from bravery fled. 

Their names shall survive in the temple of fame, 
Though ceased has the conflict, and quenched is 

the flame 
That warmed the young champion of freedom to 

brave 
The wrath of the tyrant, the gloom of the grave. 

And the roll of the drum, and the cannon's loud peal, 
With the thrill-stirring fife, and the clashing of steel. 
On Freedom's bright birthday, with thundering 

applause, 
Shall tell of their triumphs in Liberty's cause. 

Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



12 



THE HERO OF THE HERMITAGE. 

The hoary-haired hero, the veteran of fame, 
With doubled wreathed laurels that encircle his 

name. 
Who o'er his bright halo a shadow shall throw, 
Or tarnish the honours his triumphs bestow ? • 

As. well hide the sun in his splendour at noon ; 
As well stay the strength of the stormy simoon. 
Or calm the deep ocean when tempests prevail. 
And dark billows sweep o'er the mariner's sail. 

Recorded in the annals of glory shall dwell 
The deeds ihat Columbia with transport shall tell; 
To her children through ages with rapture convey. 
As the heritage left, that shall never decay. 

Yes, the hearts of the grateful shall cherish thy fame, 
And the mothers of freemen remember thy name, 
The arm that preserved them when ruin was nigh, 
When terror and darkness o'ershadowed the sky ; 



THE HERO OF T H E H E R M I T A G E. 131 

When the Chesapeake scenes, and the Capitol fired, 
Each bosom for vengeance and for battle inspired ; 
When the Indian's fierce yells on our frontier were 

heard. 
And the myrmidon bands on our waters appeared; 

They came as the billows when all crested they 

sweep. 
Like the spirit of warridrs, aroused from the deep; 
When they foam in their wrath, and tumultuously 

roar 
O'er the rocks that repel from the surf-beaten shore ; 

But undaunted thy strength all their power defied, 
And their force, like those billows, on thy battle- 
ments died ; 
In ruin returned, whence in triumph they came, 
O'erwhelmed with deep sorrow and shrouded with 
shame. 

Then freedom exulted — thy country beheld — 
Acknowledged her hero, her falchion and shield ! 
And the voice of millions in thy praises was 

heard. 
By beauty exalted, by glory endeared. 



132 THE HERO OF THE HERMITAGE. 

Peace to thee, chieftain, in thy Hermitage repose, 
Where the sun of thy fame to the firmament rose, 
For thy actions illustrious, refulgent as day. 
With the radiance of glory, shall never decay ! 

Natchez, 1843. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 

Thy locks are whitened with the frost of time; 
Thy form is bent, that ere the age of man 
For Freedom battled in her feeble van, 
And gave her armies, in her glorious prime, 
The avenging power that triumphant bore 
Her blood-stained standard on the southern shore. 

Soon shall the sun of thy existence set. 
Soon thy career of earthly glory cease, 
And part thy spirit to eternal peace ; 
Yet still for ages shall the lasting debt 
Of gratitude from unborn millions due. 
Thy virtues brighten and thy fame renew. 

For long shall Coosa's rolling waters weep 
The sanguine trophies from her warriors won, 
Her lands dispeopled and her chiefs undone; 
And long shall bloody Talladaga keep 
The sad memorials ofavenginsr wrath 
That crushed a nation in the Conqueror's path. 

12* 



134 ANDREW JACKSON. 

But where the exulting shout of millions rise, 
Where vollied thunders echo o'er the wave 
Thy arm to freedom and thy countr}' gave ; 
Where Beauty best thy glorious acts can prize, 
Shall Freedom's sons to future time proclaim 
Thy peerless triumphs on the fields of fame. '^ 

Liberty, Miss., 1842. 



COLONEL WILLIAM ROBERTSON M'KEE. 



WHO FELL AT BUENA VISTA.*' 



He fell as falls the good and brave ; 
He fills a patriot soldier's grave: 
And ne'er a nobler being bled, 
Or purer soul from mortal fled, 
Than on at Buena Vista led 
The gallant, generous, and the free, 
Kentucky's noble son, M'Kee. 

The monument may rise on high. 
And fame speak loud of those who die, 
Obedient to their country's laws. 
In freedom's just and holy cause ; 
Yet Memory often there shall pause 
To pay devotion's debt to thee. 
The gallant, wise, and good M'Kee. 

Thy name, inscribed on history's page, 
Shall long be loved by youth and age, 



136 COLONEL WILLIAM ROBERTSON m'keE. 

A pure and glorious beacon guide 
For those who, o'er the battle's tide. 
Would on to fame and glory ride, 
Triumphing o'er its threatening sea, 
To fall and conquer like M'Kee. 

Though soon the spear and sword shall rust, 

And monuments return to dust, 

Yet Buena Vista's dreadful day, 

That tore Kentucky's gems away. 

Shall live o'er ruin and decay. 

With those who fell with brave M'Kee, 

At Mexico's Thermopylae. 

Canton, Mo., July, 1847. 



FIRST REGIMENT OF MISSISSIPPI 
VOLUNTEER S.*^ 

Ye have placed a name on the page of fame, 

A gem in your country's glory — 
A bright star to shine, with its beams divine, 

In the annals of her story. 

Ye led the wrj at Monterey, 

Like veteran heroes bore ye. 
When charged with death the cannon's breath 

Belched sulphury flames before ye ; 

And swiftly sped the whistling lead, 

Like rattling hail that sounded, 
As over the dead your unfaltering tread 

The hopes of your foes confounded ; 

And o'er the height, 'mid fiercest fight, 

First o'er the rampart scaling. 
Ye led the way at Monterey, 

While that iron storm was hailing. 



138 FIRST REGIMENT OF MISSISSIPPI VOLUNTEERS. 

Ye won the meed of glory's deed 

On Buena Vista's field, 
When in the path of the foeman's wrath 

Ye stood your country's shield ! 

Ye withstood his force in its furious course, 

Like a swollen river pouring, 
As a mountain rock doth the tempest's shock ; 

Wiih its towering summit soaring : 

His o'erwhelming tide, with its humbled pride, 

Recoiled enraged before ye, 
As the dreadful form of the battle storm 

Terrific revelled o'er ye. 

Brave men! elate your glorious State, 

Your triumphs shall proclaim ; 
And sadly tell of those who fell 

To fill their country's fame : 

Of the battle's wrath in its bloody path. 

On Buena Vista's day, 
When her little band took its gallant stand, 

And stayed the foeman's way ; 



FIRST REGIMENT OF MISSISSIPPI VOLUNTEERS. 139 

For ye've placed her name on the page of fame, 

A gem in your country's glory, 
A bright star to shine, with its beams divine, 

In the annals of her story. 

New Orleans, April, 1847. 



I 

i 



BEAUTIFUL EYE. 

There 's a language that speaks from a beautiful eye, 
That the soul in its sympathy feels ; 

And a rapture that thrills in the mystical tie 
That the blush in its beauty reveals. 

The stars tell of home and of heaven above, 
When they beam in the twilight of even; 

But the bright eye of beauty, illumined with love, 
Is the light to Elysium given. 

And O, through the clouds that envelope the soul, 
'Tis the beacon o'er life's troubled ocean, 

That love, though the billows tempestuously roll. 
Fondly seeks with its hope and devotion. 

Ne'er genius hath flashed like a meteor by, 

Ascending the summit of fame, 
That felt not the ray of a beautiful eye 

Enkindling its heavenly flame. 



BEAUTIFUL EYE. 141 

O, long may the eyes of the beautiful light, 
Like those sjars in the heaven that glow, 

The souls of devotion, through shadows of night, 
To the bliss of Elysium below. 

O, long may the soul in its sympathy feel, 

As it bows to a beautiful eye, 
That the thrill which the blushes of beauty reveal, 

Is devotion that never can die. 

Cincinnati, 1843. 



la 



BEAUTIFUL ONE. 

I COULD bow down before thee, 

Thou beautiful one, 
And with rapture adore thee, 
Till life be undone ; 
But the heart that is bleeding by thee hath been torn ; 
Been chilled by thy coldness in the brightness of 
morn. 

Like the bright star of even, 

Adorning the west, 
Thou the fond hope wert given. 
Of heaven and rest; 
But a cloud o'er thy splendour its shadow hath 

thrown, 
And the spirit of friendship 's forsaken and lone. 

O, thou angel of gladness ! 
Thy rapture impart ; 



BEAUTIFUL ONE. 143 

The dark clouds of sadness 
Dispel from his heart ; 
Diffuse o'er the minstrel thy radiance again ; 
Enkindle his bosom, and inspire his strain. 

Go, return to thine own one, 

Who worships afar; 
But O beam on the lone one. 
Thou beautiful star ! 
And illumine the pathway that glory hath given. 
For genius to travel in triumph to heaven. 

Natchez, 1843. 



CARRIE. 

O, Carrie, my lass, and O, Carrie, my lay, 
My sweet little Carrie, O carol away. 
As the ship on the sea, when the sun sinks to rest, 
And the lone star of evening illumines the west. 
Such, dearest, am I, on this life's troubled sea ; 
And thou, the bright star that is beaming for me. 
O, no gems of the earth, no pearls of the sea. 
No stars in the sky, that are shining like thee ; 
O, there's nothing of bliss that ever can be 
So dear as her song, and sweet Carrie to me. 
Then Carrie, my lass, O, Carrie, my lay, 
My sweet little Carrie, O carol away. 

As the wretch who beholds, through his prison-grate 

shining. 
The pure light of heaven, when his bosom is pining. 
Thus, dearest, in sorrow, through the shades of my 

grief, 
I behold thy bright radiance, that brings me relief. 



CARRIE. 145 

Not the sailor that clings to his wreck on the sea, 
When he views the far land, as a speck on the lee, 
Beholds with more rapture, that his safety will be, 
Than I turn in my sorrow, sweet Carrie, to thee. 
Then Carrie, my lass, O, Carrie, my lay. 
My sweet little Carrie, O carol away. 

As the flowers that bloom in the summer's bright 

sun, 
When stern winter has fled, and blithe spring has 

begun. 
Thus, dearest, new hopes in this bosom shall rise. 
When warmed by the light of those bright beaming 

eyes. 
Not the notes of the lark, that soars to the sky, 
And swells his sweet songs to the seraphs on high; 
Not the bliss of those roses in rapture that rest, 
And exhale their sweet fragrance on Beauty's white 

breast ; 
O, thei'e's nothing on earth, or in heaven can be, 
So dear as her song, and sweet Carrie to me. 
Then Carrie, my lass, O, Carrie, my lay, 
My sweet little Carrie, O carol away. 

Natchez, 1839. 

13* 



SWEET LAURA, OF THEE! 

When the visions of youth Kke a meteor have passed. 
And the shadov^'s of sorrow before him are cast, 
O where shall the minstrel in his agony flee? 
To the star of his hope, o'er the dark-rolling sea. 
To the bosom of beauty — sweet Laura ! of thee. 

When the wrath of the tempest shall gather around. 
And swift the fleet vessel o'er the blue billows bound. 
His beacon, in danger and in darkness, shall be 
The fond star of his hope o'er the dark-rolling sea, 
The soft radiance of beauty — sweet Laura ! of thee. 

'Tis the bright smile of beaut}^, the twilight of day, 
When the sun in his glory has faded away. 
That illumines the urn where his relics repose, 
And elicits the strains that his sorrows disclose. 

Though barren be the spot where the cold tomb shall 

lie, 
And the blasting sirocco should sweep through the 

sky, 



SWEETLAUE.A, OFTHEe! 147 

Yet softly by moonlight, that music shall flow, 
Like the weeping of angels o'er the victims of wo. 

But the angel, by moonlight that, to sigh and to 

weep. 
Shall bend o'er the cold tomb where his sad relics 

sleep, 
The pure soul of his idol unshrouded shall be. 
To illumine the bard from oblivion to flee ; 
The bright spirit of beauty — sweet Laura ! of thee. 

And the tomb whence those echoes of music shall 

swell. 
The sweet gift of sorrow, in the soft-sounding shell, 
Whose melody by moonlight, on breezes shall flee 
To the star of his hope, o'er the dark-rolling sea, 
To the bosom of beauty — sweet Laura ! of thee. 

Natchez, 1839. 



LAURA. 

When joy shall fade to sorrow's shade, 

As pleasures pass away, 
And hopes that beam, like fancy's dream, 

In darkness to decay; 
A nobler pride the Bard shall guide, 

Than Beauty's rays inspire ; 
For glory's aim, immortal fame, 

Shall swell his sounding lyre. 

But Laura's ray shall light the way 

That leads his steps to glory, 
And Laura's ear with rapture hear 

Her triumphs in his story ; 
For beams that fly from Beauty's eye, 

Still kindle Genius' fire 
That ne'er can die while woman's sigh 

Shall bid its flames aspire. 

There's nought so sweet on earth he'll meet, 

So soon that blooms to perish. 
As Love's delight with Beauty bright, 

In sylvan scenes he'll cherish. 



LAURA. 



149 



Though he may rove, there's nought above, 

More brilliant than that ray 
That beamed on Love beneath the grove, 

In boyhood's brighter day. 

Though bolder themes than Beauty's beams 

Shall sw'ell his sounding lyre, 
No notes he'll hear, so sv^'eetly dear 

As those her rays:inspire. 
O'er ocean's foam the Bard may roam, 

By tempest wrath be driven. 
Yet flames of yore, from Beauty's shore, 

Shall light his path to heaven. 

Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



MARY. 

O, COULD 1 feel as I have felt, 

Could rapture's rays return, 
This frozen heart those fires melt, 

That faint and flickering burn ; 
I then might turn to Beauty's shrine, 

Among her bowers tarry, 
Nor dream of brighter worlds divine, 

While lingering with my Mary. 

Could hope revive, and mem'ry fade. 

With all its pangs for ever; 
Could parted joys be brighter made, 

That death alone could sever; 
O then would turn to earth again 

My wandering spirit weary, 
To hail the home of rapture's reign, 

The bosom of my Mary. 

But O, this heart is frozen now, 
Beyond its power to bear ; 

For ah, too soon the storm shall bow 
The spirit of despair. 



MARY. 151 

I cannot turn to earth again — 

This world is dark and dreary ; 
But O, could aught assuage my pain, 

'Twould be the smile of Mary. 

Clinton, La., May, 1841. 



ISABEL. 

Why fades the crimson from thy cheek ? 

Why heaves thy bosom's heavy swell, 
Whence secret sighs of sorrow break, 

My bashful, blooming Isabel 1 

Why sadly sounds thy silvery tone, 
That could of happier hours tell ; 

Of sacred scenes for ever flown, 
My pensive, plaintive Isabel? 

Why languid looks thy soft blue eye. 
That could the clouds of care dispel 

From early love's Elysian sky, 
My mournful, modest Isabel ] 

Hath grief so soon thy soul o'ercast, 
And anguish rung thy rapture's knell, 

While perished hopes before thee passed, 
My doomed, desponding Isabel ? 



ISABEL. 153 

Did persecution's poisonous blight 
Thy buoyant, bounding spirit spell, 

And clothe thee in the robes of night, 
My wronged and ruined Isabel ? 

Then turn with faith to yonder sphere, 
Where thy transported soul shall dwell, 

Unbounded in its bright career. 
Revived, angelic Isabel ! 

Clinton, La., 1841. 



14 



ANNA'S DEPARTURE. 

From yon green lawn, as rosy dawn 

Shall usher in the orient day, 
On buoyant wing the lark will spring, 

To tune aloft his morning lay ; 

But vain will float his mellow note 
O'er forest green and orchard gay, 

For ah, unheard will sing the bird, 
As Anna wanders far away. 

The meadows green, by her unseen, 
June may adorn with flowers fair, 

That blooming bright to bless the sight. 
In vain will shed their fragrance there; 

The murmuring rill may ripple still, 

By banks bedewed with sparkling spray, 

And sportive bound with cheerful sound. 
While purling o'er its pebbly way ; 



anna's departure. 155 

But Anna's voice will ne'er rejoice 

Beneath the waving cedar tree, 
The friends that strayed beneath its shade, 

And listened to her nnelody. 

Ye emblems fair of beauty rare, 
Deceptive Hope and Pleasure gay, 

An early tomb will be your doom — 
Ye bloom but to decay ; 

But Anna's ray, as bursts the day 

Through stormy clouds that shroud the sky, 
Shall far illume the saddening gloom. 

And glad the stranger's tearful eye ; 

And as the earth gives flowers birth, 

When freed by spring from winter stern. 

So Hope will bloom o'er Sorrow's tomb, 
When Beauty's rays to love return. 

Lexington, Ky., 1838. 



T O C A R R I E. 

The fond vision has faded ; my rapture is o'er ; 
The bright beauty that bound me, may bind me no 

more. 
O, Carrie ! how soon must the illusion decay, 
And breast of devotion in agony bleed ? 
Scarce the thrills of emotion have melted aw^ay, 
Ere the dark clouds of sorrow in silence succeed, 
And the bright tears of beauty, like dewdrops of 

morn, 
Begem the white rose-wreath that with rapture was 

worn. 

O, how gay was thy smile, and how spotless thy 

brow, 
And the sweet-scented rosebuds, O where are they 

now ? 
Sweet Carrie ! they've faded, like thy smiles they 

have fled. 
With the fragrance they breathed o'er thy soft 

golden hair; 
And O, never again shall they bloom from the dead, 
The emotions of beauty in rapture to share — 



TOCARRIE. 157 

Lo ! low in the dust, there in unheeded decay, 
Thy bright rosebuds have faded, and withered 
away. 

And Beauty's a flower that, beneath the simoon 
Of dark passions' fierce power, will perish as soon ; 
Sweet Carrie ! the flower then all withered will 

weep, 
In deep sorrow and silence neglected to lie. 
Till the tempest of anguish shall over it sweep, 
And the remnants of beauty in agony die; 
Then consigned to the tomb, with the hopes that 

were dear, 
To oblivion 'twill sink, unbedewed with a tear. 

But the bright eye of beauty, when lit by that ray 
That illumines the pathway to life's sad decay, 
Doth in triumph dispel the dark clouds of the breast, 
That envelope the soul in the shadows of night; 
And disclose the bright scenes where the spirit shall 

rest. 
When wrapt in the rays of eternity's light ; 
O, long is it cherished, and still longer adored. 
Remembered in darkness, and for ever deplored. 

Natchez, 1831). 

14* 



WHITE ROSEBUD. 

When Nature bade the earth disclose 
Her hidden hues of fragrant flowers. 

First sprang to Hght the blushing rose, 
To bloom in Eden's verdant bowers. 

There Beauty saw the flower fair, 
That sweetly blushed in soft repose, 

Till, charmed to deck her golden hair, 
She heedless plucked thy parent rose. 

Ah, then surprised, in Beauty's eyes, 
Superior charms on earth to view, 

The modest bud, with plaintive sigh. 
Resigned its glows of crimson hue ; 

But scarcely from their leaves they fell. 
Ere Beauty claimed the lawful prize, 

And bade them, o'er her cheek, excel 
The lustre of her beaming eyes. 



WHITEROSEBUD. 159 

Then, lowly bent with anxious fears, 
The pensive bud in Beauty's light, 

Till, brightly bleached with sorrow's tears. 
It quickly turned to spotless while ; 

And then it waved above her brow. 
Among her locks of golden hair, 

Like shaded spots on mountain snow. 
When even sheds its radiance there. 

Such was, sweet bud, thy parent's doom. 
Such first on earth her matchless grace, 

Till Beautv watched the blushes bloom. 
And robbed her of her envied place. 

Lexington, July, 1838. 



T O F A N N Y. 

I WILL bring thee sweet flowers, most fragrant and 

fair, 
The fondest that Fancy's bright bowers can bear; 
But, alas ! they will perish, since doomed, from their 

birth, 
To bloom and to wither, like the blossoms of earth. 

But they'll serve as a garland, to deck thee awhile, 

To rival thy beauty, and brighten thy smile ; 

And when they are withered, then an emblem 

they'll be, 
Of the hopes that have blossomed and faded for me. 

And O, when the sounds of his melody cease, 
And the bard be consigned to oblivion and peace, 
May the fragrance exhaled from the flowers he 

wove, 
As incense ascend to the altars of love ; 



TOFANNY. 161 

And the bright tears of Beauty illumine the lyre, 
Her rays could with rapture or sorrow inspire ; 
When its symphonies sweet to those flowers gave 

birth, 
That bloomed but to wither, like the blossoms of 

earth. 

Cincinnati, 1843. 



THE CHINQUEPIN GROVE. 

The chinquepin grove ! the chinquepin grove ! 

Dost thou remember the ride we took ; 

Thy steed by mine, and thy meaning look, 

As down the lane we dashing drove, 

With those charming girls, to the chinquepin grove? 

Ah ! dost thou remember that vision yet ; 

Thy blushing cheek, with its crimson glow, 

And the blue eyes that beamed on one — you know, — 

Where thy form as a gem in his soul is set ; 

Ah ! dost thou remember that vision yet ? 

And canst thou recall the stranger too ; 
Thy magic spell, and his sweet surprise. 
As he met the gaze of thy deep blue eyes. 
That over his soul an enchantment threw, 
That bound all his life and his love to you? 



THE CHINQUEPIN GROVE. 163 

Then cherish, then cherish those memories dear — 
The odours that breathe, though the flowers are 

dead — 
The image that stays, though the idol has fled — 
And turn to the past, with thy smile and thy tear. 
As tributes both due to those memories dear ! 

Canton, Mo., July, 1847. 



TO A COQUETTE. 

With much regret, my sweet coquette, 

And longing eyes, I leave thee; 
But still there 's bliss in knowing this — 

My loss will not bereave thee. 

You still may flirt, and be as pert, 
For other forms will please thee ; 

Though eyes as bright, and hearts as light, 
As freely may release thee. 

Go, dimpled cheek, in rapture speak. 

That lovers may adore thee ; 
Think not in shade the rose will fade. 

That time is gathering o'er thee. 

New hopes may bloom, new beaux may come- 

And, simple souls! believe thee; 
But fortune's smile is faithless guile, 

•That beams but to deceive thee. 



TO A COQUETTE. 165 

Then, sweetest prude! think not I'm rude, 

That thus I do advise thee : 
Thy charms once o'er, who will adore? 

Thy flatt'rers will despise thee. 

Then while thine eye can win a sigh, 

And thrill with fond devotion, 
Pull tight the line, a prize is thine, 

From Fortune's fickle ocean. 

Lexington, 1838. 



15 



TO MISS E A C T, 

OF ST. LOUIS. 

So lately met — so soon to part — 

It is enough to grieve me; 
Yet, lady, from my sorrowing heart, 

This tribute I would leave thee. 

We may, or may not meet again ; 

Yet still thy deep blue eye. 
The influence of its magic reign 

I'll cherish till I die. 

There's something in its mellow ray. 

That o'er my spirit throWs 
A twilight; like departing day, 

Upon the mountain snows ; 

'Tis sad and soft, 'tis pure and cold. 

Both earthly and divine; 
Such are the hues thy rays unfold, 

And such this heart of mine. 



TO MISS E A C T. 167 

My pathway is a lonely one, 

Through darkness and distress ; 
The rays that once with rapture shone, 

No more my soul can bless. 

Then O, how cheering is the light, 

When beauty's magic beam 
Illumes the pilgrim's starless night, 

And wakens boyhood's dreams; 

Those sunny days in sorrow set, 
Like twilight through the shower. 

With radiant bow remaining yet 
At evening's pensive hour. 

Ah, lady! 'twas thy look that brought 

Those buried days of yore, 
With boyhood's hopes and pleasures fraught, 

That time can ne'er restore. 

Then fare thee well, and if again. 

Beneath a southern sky, 
I own the influence of its reign, 

The soft and deep blue eye; 



168 TO MISS E A C 



I'll think upon the time we met 

In a far distant sphere, 
The stranger's brief but deep regret, 

His tribute and his tear. 

Davenport, Iowa, Aug. 1847. 



BLUE EYES. 

Away with your red rose — away with your white ; 
Let me gaze where they both in thy beauty unite. 
O tell me, thou modest and beautiful one, 
Can we look at the stars in the lisrht of the sun ? 
Would we turn from their splendour when beaming 

above, 
To view the frail flowers of ephemeral love? 
Away with your red rose — away with your white ; 
Let me gaze where they both in thy beauty unite. 

Though the black eyes of passion may burn with 

their ray, 
Yet the soft blue of beauty shall brighten my way : 
The mountain sublime — the clear sky and calm 

ocean, 
And all that exalts us with heavenly emotion — 
The stream that is purest, the soft-gurgling fountain. 
The lake that is hid 'mong the rocks of tjie mountain, 
Are clothed with the hue of thy beautiful eye, 
The tear of the twilight, the smile of the sky. 

Qujncy, 111., July, 1844. 

15* 



A DREAM. 

I HAD a sweet dream, in the stillness of night. 

It came to my soul like a vision of light ; 

And disclosed, 'mid the scenes of the festival throng, 

The brightness of beauty, the sweetness of song. 

And one 'mid that throng, the most beautiful there, 

A white flower wore in her glossy jet hair ; 

Her step was the lightest 'mid the maze of the dance ; 

Her dark eye the brightest in the flash of its glance; 

The hope of all hearts, and the gaze of each eye. 

She passed in her path like a meteor by. 

I blessed her, for Heaven had made her most fair ; 

And her beauty was bliss to my bosom of care ; 

For the blushes that mantled her cheek with their 

glow, 
O'er my soul did a halo of happiness throw. 

Another I saw in the dream of that night, 
A lone star appearing, serenely and bright; 
But cold was her cheek, and far colder her heart. 
For no warm pulse would beat, no blushes would 
start, 



A DREAM. 171 

And her blue eyes as coldly and calmly would gaze, 
As if blind to fond friendship, and dead to all praise. 
I approached her with sadness — with faltering 

breath 
I spoke but a word — she was chilling as death ! 
I turned from that scene in deep grief and despair. 
For a rose-wreath encircled her light auburn hair, 
And each object recalled from sad memory's shrine, 
The hopes and the joy's that in boyhood were mine. 
When white rosebuds were bound to the beauteous 

brow 
Of the warm-hearted one who is joyous now. 

I passed through that throng all disheartened and 

lone, 
For my hope had departed, my rapture had flown; 
And I heedlessly moved through the maze of the 

dance, 
And beheld not the flash of each beautiful glance. 
Till she of blue eyes and the flower-wreathed hair 
Appeared in my path like a spirit of air. 
I gazed in her eye — a soft mellow light 
Illumined my soul with a thrill of delight. 
I gazed on her cheek — 'twas tinged with a glow, 
And hersweet lips were wreathing, all sadly andslow. 



172 A DREAM. 

O, I felt in that hour what I never had feh — 
That my soul 'neath her radiance with rapture 

would melt. 
But ah, the bright transport too sweet was to last; 
I awoke from my slumber — the vision had past : 
But that look, and that smile, and the blush of that 

cheek, 
Which no pencil can paint, and no language can 

speak. 
Enshrined in the tomb of this desolate heart, 
Shall never, O never from memor}' depart. 

Natchez, February, 1848. 



ON LEAVING NATCHEZ. 

Lone city of beauty, all-beautiful yet, 

My spirit departs with a pang of regret, . 

As I gaze on the scenes of my childhood and joy, 

Where I thoughtlessly wandered, a wild truant boy ; 

Where the red men reposed, and their rude tents 

were raised ; 
Where their wild children played by the night fire's 

blaze : 
Then the forest crest waved o'er thy beautiful brow, 
Where blooms the bright garden of thy loveliness 

now. 

I've seen thee a wilderness, I've seen thee a waste, 
When the elements raged and the hurricane passed; 
Storm, fire and pestilence over thee swept, 
And left but the wreck that humanity wept. 

I love thee in sorrow, in sadness depart. 
Thou home of my childhood, thou hope of my heart ; 
More charming thy scene in its sadness appears, 
As Beauty is loveliest when bathed in her tears. 



174' ONLEAVINGNATCHEZ. 

Farewell, I must leave thee, though bright in thy 

story 
The fame of thy Fisk*^ shall survive with thy glory, 
Remembered with reverence by millions to be, 
By the boon of his blessing enlightened and free. 

Farewell, for the image of the wronged one departed. 

With the scenes of his boyhood to memory has 
started. 

And the chords that were wakened by love and by 
sorrow. 

May be decked with the tear-drops of anguish to- 
morrow. 

I go, but this garland a memento I leave, 
Where the cypress and myrtle together I weave. 
And the rose with its thorn 'mong the violets bind, 
For the brow of the beautiful I am leaving behind. 

Natchez, Oct. 1847. 



ON LEAVING LEXINGTON. 

Ye grassy lawns, ye green woods wild, 

And streamlets gurgling by, 
Adieu, adieu, for far from you 

My fleeting steps must fly. 
Fond friends may perish, scenes may change, 

And darker days may come — 
The brightest buds of boyhood's hopes 

Be blasted in their bloom ; 
Yet fleet from foreign climes afar 

My spirit still shall soar, 
And here behold those scenes of bliss 

That then shall bloom no more. 
My humble hut shall rear its shed 

Beneath the forest tree. 
Beside the broad and turbid tide, 

With billows flowing free ; 
Where wild deer, bounding from the brake 

As beams the golden morn, 
Speed far their flight through forest shade, 

From hunter, hound, and horn; 



176 ON LEAVING LEXINGTON. 

Yet here with fond delight to dwell, 

My spirit still shall roam, 
To bless the scenes of former bliss, 

In boyhood's happy home. 

O, scenes beloved, for ever dear, 

I fondly still shall cherish, 
And closely clasp in memory's shrine. 

When all my hopes shall perish. 
My solace sweet, in sorrow's hour. 

Your lights shall brightly beam, 
Effulgent through the shades of grief, 

Like glory's radiance stream, 
Dispelling every cloud of care 

That lowers o'er my way. 
To light me on to triumph yet. 

In truth's eternal sway. 
O, 'tis the visions of the past, 

The flames of former time, 
Those feelings curbed, those thoughts concealed. 

And sympathies sublime. 
That light the spirit, when its hopes expire. 
To higher spheres, with fame's ethereal fire. 

Lexington, 1838. 



HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. 

As the mariner, wrecked on a desolate shore, 
Fondly turns to his home when the tempest is o'er ; 
Thus, fair Fayette, in exile, my bosom for thee, 
With emotions of joy, in secret doth burn ; 
And the soul of the bard, like a bird o'er the sea, 
To the scenes of his childhood with rapture return. 

As the lark from the tree by the truant is torn, 
Ere its young wings have waved in the twilight of 

morn ; 
Thus by fate was I borne from thy bosom of peace. 
And the friends that affection still fondly doth 

cherish, 
With the throbs of devotion that only can cease 
When the charms of remembrance for ever shall 

perish. 

Here no " meadows''' appear, with the fairest of 

fowers ; 
Nor sweet incense ascends from the dark forest 

bowers ; 

16 



178 HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. 

But O, Fayette, thy fields like a mantle were spread, 
Which Nature hath woven with the brightest of hues. 
That the angels of beauty, with rapture might tread 
Among flowers bespangled and sparkling with dews. 

O, thou home of my childhood, of beauty and bliss, 
More endeared by the darkness and trials of this, 
Though tempests of anguish o'er the lone bark shall 

sweep. 
And thy bard to the gulf of oblivion be cast. 
Yet the spirit of friendship shall soar from the deep, 
To roam o'er thy meadows, and remember the past. 

Natchez, 1839. 



HOME OF HOPE. 

'Tis sweet upon the moonlit sea, when calm the 

ocean wave, 
And memory turns to other years, to dwell upon 

the brave, 
To hear the tones of Beauty's voice, her songs of 

praises pour 
To those who o'er the bright blue sea their country's 

banner bore. 

'Tis sweet, amid the desert waste, beneath the 

burning sky, 
When, faint with thirst, the traveller has laid him 

down to die. 
To hear on spicy breezes borne from some oasis isle. 
The sound of waters Mercy placed to make the 

desert smile. 

'Tis sweet, when on the mountain height the hunter 
has lost his way. 

And faintly treads o'er rugged rocks, and the tor- 
rent's dashing spray, 



180 



HOME OF HOPE. 



Afar down verdant vales to view his lonely moun- 
tain cot, 

Where Beauty charms the sylvan scene, and shares 
his humble lot. 

But sweeter far, when Sorrow's shade obscures the 

expiring light. 
That tortured Faith but faintly leads to guide the 

pilgrim right, 
To hail the long-expected home that Hope had early 

given. 
The paradise that Beauty cheers with virtue's 

charms from heaven. 



OH, THINK NOT 'TIS PRIDE. 

Oh, think not 'lis pride — Oh, think not 'tis scorn. 
That the brow of affliction with wrinkles hath 

worn. 
When the scenes that are fair, and the hopes that 

you cherish. 
Shall be clouded with grief, and in darkness shall 

perish ; 
When thy nearest, thy dearest shall be laid in the 

grave, 
And the willow and cypress above them shall 

wave; 
Thou'lt say it's not pride, thou'lt say it's not scorn, 
That the brow of affliction with wrinkles hath 

worn. 

Oh, call me not proud — Oh, call me not vain — 
Mock not my affliction, nor smile at my pain. 
When thy prospects of pleasure shall quickly be o'er. 
And the rapture that thrills thee, shall thrill thee no 
more; 

16* 



182 OH, THINK NOT 'tIS PRIDE. 

When the demon of anguish to the cave of despair. 
Thee the victim of sorrow in his triumph shall bear ; 
Who'll call thee then proud? Who'll call thee then 

vain? 
Or mock thy affliction, or smile at thy pain? 

Lexington, Aug. 1838. 



CHANGE. 

There was a time when flowers fair he culled, 

And wreaths fantastic wove, 
To entwine a beauteous coronal 

To crown his early love. 

There was a time when rays angelic shone, 

To light his lonely way ; 
When Beauty's radiance to his vision seemed 

More joyous than the day. 

But these have passed — these fascinations dear, 
That made the world most fair — 

Like fragrant flowers in the forest wild, 
liike incense in the air. 

And he, who in ecstatic visions lived, 
Who basked in Beauty's beam. 

In sorrow lingering round her ruined fane, 
Is wakened from his dream. 



184 CHANGE. 

No cheering rainbow spans the heavenly arch ; 

No star illumes the sky ; 
No faithful compass guides his wandering bark, 

Or tells him where to fly ; 

Wrecked and dismantled on the stormy deep, 

Life's dark, uncertain sea, 
His shattered vessel through the tempest floats, 

Onward to eternity ! 

New Orleans, Dec. 1844. 



HOPE. 

THE joyous dreams of bygone days 
Come o'er my troubled soul, 

Like beauteous lights that brightly beam 
Around the frozen pole. 

And when those dreams from love depart, 
And Sorrow round me throws 

The mantle of her sombre shade, 
To lull me to repose ; 

1 feel like one upon the sea 

Of winter wildly tost. 
When darkness veils the ruined wreck, 
And all but Hope is lost. 

Sweet comforter in bygone days, 

Sweet solace of the hour. 
Around me throw thy magic robe. 

And bless me with thy power. 



186 HOPE. 

Thou wert the light of childhood's day, 
Like yon lone star of Even, 

That glimmers in her portals gray, 
And lures my soul to heaven; 

And O, while yet around my path 
The clouds in darkness roll, 

Thy cheering beams still light the way, 
And guide my erring soul. 

New Orleans, Jan. 1845. 



NOTES. 



Note 1. 



The godlike offspring- of a nobler sphere, 
Who sought a home, but found no refuge here. 

''And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on 
the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, 
that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they 
were fair; and they took them wives of all which they 
chose. There were giants in the earth in those days ; and 
also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the 
daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the 
same became mighty men, which were of old, men of 
renown." — Gen. vi. 1, 2, 4. 

Note 2. 

Till heap on heap, his Median warriors rose, 
A bloody bulwark for their battling foes. 

CrcBSUS consulted the Oracle of Delphi in regard to his 
expedition against Cyrus, and was answered that if he 
crossed the Halys, he would put an end to a great empire- 
He crossed it, in anticipation of his own success, and en- 



188 



NOTES. 



gaged Cyras upon the plain of Pteria. The subsequent 
battle of Thymbra, which occurred near a small town of 
that name upon the banks of the Hermus, and not far from 
Sardis, put an end to the empire of Crcesus. It was in this 
battle that a force of one hundred and twenty thousand 
Egyptians refused to fly or to surrender, and successfully 
withstood the assaults of the whole Median army, until 
Cyrus, in admiration of their bravery, proposed tenns, by 
which they were honourably received as auxiliaries into 
his own army. 

Note 3. 

And Persia's wrath beheld the raging flame 
Consume the tombs and temples of thy fame. 

After the failure of his expedition against Ethiopia, " Cam- 
byses, on his return northward, carried off from Thebes a 
large booty of gold, silver, ivory, and precious stones, and 
among these treasures the golden zodiac from the Memno- 
niura. He overthrew the massive walls of the temples, set 
fire to what would burn, and broke the statues with the 
zeal of a religious conqueror. He forced open the under- 
ground tombs of the Theban kings to carry off the treasures 
that had been buried therein." " Cambyses then opened 
the tombs in the neighbourhood of Memphis, and broke up 
the mummies, ... He also forced his way into the Phe- 
nician temple of the Cabiri, which none but the priests 
ever entered ; he laughed at the ceremonies and burned 
the statues." — Sliarpe's History of Egypt. 



NOTES. 



189 



Note 4. 

That erst the Epirot from your bloodstained shore 
Back to the borders of Arcadia bore. 

Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, was present with Lysimachus, 
Seleucus, Ptolemy, Cassander, Antigonus, and Demetrius 
in the battle of Ipsus, where, though but young, he bore 
down all before him, and highly distinguished himself 
among the combatants. He was the most eminent and 
remarkable character of his time. Antigonus, being asked 
who was the greatest general, answered: ''Pyrrhus would 
be, if he lived to be old." Hannibal, speaking of him, 
said : " Of all the world he had ever seen, Pyrrhus was the 
first in genius and skill." He invaded Italy with an army 
consisting of 20 elephants, 3000 horse, 20,000 foot, 2000 
archers, and 500 slingers ; after six years wasted in fruitless 
attempts upon it and Sicily, he returned to Epirus with 8000 
foot and 500 horse, and without funds to maintain them. 

While contending in the streets of Argos, it happened 
that he was wounded through the breastplate with a javelin. 
The wound was rather slight than dangerous. He turned 
against the man who gave it, who was an Argive man of no 
note, the son of a poor old woman. This woman, among 
others, looking upon the fight from the roof of a house, be- 
held her son thus engaged. Seized with terror at the sight, 
she took up a large tile with both hands, and threw it at Pyr- 
rhus. The tile fell upon his head, and notwithstanding his 
helmet, crushed the lower vertebra of his neck. Darkness 
in a moment covered his eyes ; his hands let go the reins, he 
fell from his horse and was despatched by his enemies. 

17 



190 



NOTES. 



Note 5. 

Thy shield and sword, eternal Rome ! 

The Romans called Fabius Maximus the shield, and 
Marcus Claudius Marcellus the sword of Rome. 

Note 6. 

The avenging Vandal to destruction gave 
Thy stately fabrics. 

Alaric appeared three times before Rome, and finally 
took it by storm, a. d. 410. In the 1163d year after its 
foundation, this magnificent city suffered retaliation for its 
injustice to the world. The sword of the Goths reeked with 
the blood of the defenceless population ; public and private 
wealth and the treasures of art vanished by plundering or 
annihilation ; an abandoned populace and slaves desirous 
of revenge took advantage of the confusion for perpetrating 
crime in a thousand forms. 

Genseric, king of the Vandals, came over from Africa, 
A. D. 455, and abused Rome much more cruelly than Alaric 
had previously, and carried away immense booty. 

Totila, king of the Goths, a.d. 541, with 5000 Goths con- 
quered Italy from the Po to the Herculean promontory. 
Rome was taken after a siege memorable by the most 
terrible suffering. 

Note 7. 
The Macedonian's pride. 

Alexander, after the destruction of Tyre, founded the city 
of Alexandria. This great, magnificent, and populous city 



NOTES. 19i 

arose not far from the western mouth of the Nile, upon a 
neck of land extending between the sea and the lake Mare- 
otis. Five harbours received the vessels of commerce 
and of war. Touching the Arabian Sea, which was at a 
short distance by land from the Nile, and which was also 
connected with it by a canal on the one side, and the 
Mediterranean Sea on the other, Alexandria was destined 
by nature for the centre of intercourse between the East and 
the West — for the emporium of the commerce of the world . 
When the Macedonian kmgdoms were annihilated even to 
their last ruins, the commercial greatness of Alexandria 
continued through a long succession of centuries, and during 
the most multifarious changes of dominion, until the dis- 
covery of a passage by sea to the East Indies, in 1497, 
altered all relations. 

The Ptolemies perceived the advantages of its situation, 
and increased them by suitable measures and magnificent 
works, — as the despatching of learned men to make re- 
searches in India; the construction of excellent roads to 
Berence, Myoshormos, and other places in the Red Sea; 
and the improvement of their harbours, the erection of the 
light-house on the island of Pharos, and the completion of 
the canal from the Pelusian mouth of the Nile to Arsinoe 
on the Red Sea. This canal was one hundred and twenty- 
five miles long, and sufficiently broad to admit two triremes 
abreast. 



192 



NOTES. 



Note 8. 
Far in Arabia's wild and desert waste, 
Where ne'er the conqueror in his pride had passed. 

The arms of Sesostris and Cyrus, of Pompey and Trajan, 
could never achieve the conquest of Arabia. The obvious 
causes of their freedom are inscribed on the character and 
country of the Arabs: the patient and active virtues of a 
soldier are insensibly nursed in the habits and discipline 
of a pastoral life. When they advance in battle, the hope 
of victory is in the front, and in the rear the assurance of a 
retreat. Their horses and camels, vrhich in eight or ten 
days can perform a march of four or five hundred miles, 
disappear before the conqueror; the secret vraters of the 
desert elude his search; and his victorious troops are con- 
sumed vpith hunger, thirst, and fatigue in the pursuit of an 
invisible foe, who scorns his efforts, and safely reposes in 
the heart of the burning solitude. 

Note 9. 
Whence glory's thirst had ne'er to conquest led 
Her freeborn children from their humble shed. 

Until the time of Mahomet, the povrer of the Arabians had 
been exercised only in their ovrn hostilities, or in predatory 
expeditions ; in partially aiding foreigners as mercenaries, 
and finally in a few defensive wars on their frontiers. The 
combined power of the nation had never yet been displayed. 
A nation was spread over all Arabia, which had existed for 
ages unmixed, and which was united by a common name, 
language, and custom, and consequently, it is probable, by 



NOTES. 193 



Note 10. 



Her warrior prophet from his dwelling driven, 
Forsook his kindred, and appealed to heaven. 

Mahomet was born at Mecca, a. d. 572, in the 42d year 
of the reign of Cosroes, king of Persia, the year 88 1 from 
the victory of Alexander over Darius at Arbela. He at first 
thought proper to preach only a doctrine which, true or 
false, did not directly aft'ect the government of the state : 
but in the thirteenth year of his mission, he concerted 
measures to raise war upon his country, and asserted the 
positive commands of God to extirpate all those who would 
not believe in him, or would not submit to his obedience. 
While he pretended to have no other views than the in- 
struction of the people and their eternal welfare, he revolved 
in his mind those vast designs which his ambition had 
formed ; and to put them in execution, he now thought it 
time to add force and violence to reason and persuasion. 
To this end he commanded his disciples to prepare for war, 
and to put to the sword all those who rejected his doctrines, 
or at least such as would not submit to redeem their lives 
with an annual tribute. 

Note U. 
Borne on the breeze, from Beder's lonely vale. 

The first of Mahomet's wars was called Beder, from a 
well which was discovered in the place where the combat 
begun. Against a force of 900 foot and 100 horse, he 
opposed but 113 soldiers; these he led on in the full con- 
fidence of their valour : and they followed him firm in the 

17* 



■194 NOTES. 

opinion that the almighty power of God would supply with 
invisible armies the weakness o^ that of the Prophet's ; so 
that it is not very astonishing that, being possessed of these 
persuasions, the troops of Mahomet should be victorious 
in this battle, which, though it seemed inconsiderable, was 
in a manner the foundation of all the rest of his conquests, 
by reason of that terror which it spread among the Korash- 
ites, and that intrepidity with which it inspired his own 
troops, who believed they had nothing to fear, since God 
had so visibly declared himself their protector. Mahomet 
remained in his tent at prayer for the success of that day 
which would in a manner determine his own fate and the 
establishment of his religion. But as soon as he saw his 
troops give way, he ran out to them, and placing himself 
at their head, and throwing sand into the eyes of his 
enemies, he pronounced these words with an air of assur- 
ance : — ''Let their countenance be troubled and con- 
founded;" and charging them brir^kly, he put them to flight. 

Note 12. 

Medina's sons his chosen ones appeared. 

The conversion of the inhabitants of Medina, in the 
twelfth year of the mission of Mahomet, so exasperated 
his enemies at Mecca, that they resolved upon his assassi- 
nation. He, aware of his danger, fled, and escaped with 
some difficulty to Medina, where he was received with all 
possible respect. His followers now rapidly increased • and 
feeling his strength, he openly declared his resolution to 
destroy idolatry and propagate his religion by the sword. 



NOTES. 195 



Note 13. 



On Siffin's plain in hostile ranks arrayed, 
Their warlike chiefs the bloody fight essayed. 

The armies of Ali and of Moawiyah, the governor of 
Syria, contended on tlie plain of Siffin for one hundred and 
ten days. Ali slew four hundred of his enemies in one 
nisht with his own hand. 



*t>' 



Note 14. 

When Hashem's sons should reign with regal sway. 
And exiled far Ommiyah's offspring roam. 

The Ommiades and the Abbassides, the rival houses of 
the Arabians, contended for the supremacy in Syria. Ulti- 
mately the Abbassides triumphed, and the Ommiades were 
exterminated. Only one escaped into the distant west, and 
founded at Cordova, in Spaiii, a seat of empire that out- 
rivalled the opulence and splendour of Bagdad and Da- 
mascus. 

Note 15. 

But darker yet Kerbelu's purpled plain 
Deferred the hope that blossomed but in vain. 

Hosein, the son of Ali, received at Medina a list of 
140,000 of the faithful from Irak, who had conspired in his 
favour, and who urged him to appear on the Euphrates as 
their general and as caliph. Hosein, without assembling 
his adherents in Arabia, proceeded in haste, with a small 
attendance of women and children, and with only seventy- 



196 NOTES. 

two warriors, through the desert. But the conspiracy had 
ah'eady been suppressed ; and Hosein, as he entered the 
plains of Kerbela, suddenly saw his small band surrounded 
by more than 5000 enemies. After a desperate contest — 
after he had seen all his friends fall, and a son and nephew 
had been killed in his arms, the unfortunate, noble grand- 
son of Mahomet finally sunk under the blows of an inhuman 
murderer who called himself one of the faithful. 

Note 16. 

Long o'er his grave may wandering pilgrims weep, 
Where Hosein's ashes with his father's sleep. 

" His sepulchre at Kerbela is the principal object of re- 
ligious pilgrimage. His name is heard as often from the 
lips of a Persian as that of Ali. There is no excellence 
which he is not supposed to have possessed — no virtue 
which he did not exemplify. 

" It was at Koufah, which stood where the Euphrates and 
Tigris mingle their waters, that Ali established the seat of 
his government. It was in this region that he lost his life 
by the hands of an assassin. It was here that the great 
struggle between the contending factions continued to rage 
for centuries after his death. It was here that many of his 
house fell victims to these dire contentions. It was this 
soil that drank their blood, and now covers their remains. 
Hence it is holy ground in the eyes of the Persians. They 
revere it almost equally with the sacred soil of Mecca. 
Hither they come on pilgrimages to the tombs of the 
martyrs, and bring with them their coffined dead, and lay 



NOTES. 



197 



them ill the same earth which covers the bones of those 
whose memories they cherish with a deep though super- 
stitious enthusiasm." — Southgate^s Narrative. 

Note 17. 

Lured Sheba's queen to seek thy stately throne. 
The sons of Tyre from farthest regions led, 
And o'er the earth enlivening radiance shed. 

See Psalm Ixxii. : 1 Kings, x. 

Note 18. 
O'er Media swept, on far Caucasus broke. 

Under Al-WaUd, a. d. 705, the Arabian power attained 
the summit of its grandeur; his generals extended their 
victories in three parts of the world, and planted the stand- 
ard of Mahomet on the banks of the Jaxartes, and at the 
foot of the Pyrenees, conquering the provinces situated be- 
tween the Oxus, Jaxartes. and the Caspian Sea, completing 
the subjugation of North Africa, and overthrowing the 
West Gothic kingdoms in Spain. 

Note 19. 

When potent nations to her temple poured, 
Beheld her greatness and her God adored. 

The extent of Babylon, situated on the Euphrates, ac- 
cording to the representations of the ancients, approaches 
the miraculous. The walls are said to have been three 



198 NOTES. 

hundred and fifty feet high, and eighty-seven feet thick ; to 
have had two hundred and fifty towers, and one hundred 
gates of brass ; and to have been more than sixty miles in 
circuit. The Temple of Belus and the hanging gardens 
were among the greatest curiosities of this gigantic city, of 
which almost every trace is destroyed. Belus, one of the 
most ancient kings of Babylon, was made a god after his 
death, and worshipped with much ceremony by the Assy- 
rians, Babylonians, Persians, and Tyrians. He was sup- 
posed to be the son of the Osiris of the Egyptians. The 
Temple of Belus was the most ancient and the most mag- 
nificent in the world. Among the riches it contained, were 
many statues of massy gold, one of which was forty feet 
high. 

Note 20. 

Far-conquering queen, imperial empress, rise. 

Semiramis rendered Babylon the most magnificent city 
in the world ; she left everywhere monuments of her great- 
ness j she was distinguished as a warrior, and extended her 
conquests to the banks of the Indus. 



Note 21. 

When L_vdi;i's kills', deluded, learned too late, 
The ambiguous answer of unerring fate. 

See Note 2. 



NOTES. 199 

Note 22. 
So Tyre once thought, upon her seagirt isle. 

Tyre was built by the Phcenicians. Its inhabitants, after 
being besieged thirteen years by the forces of the Assyrian 
empire, removed to an island in the vicinity, where they 
fomided a new city, which even obscured the splendour of 
the ancient, and continued to flourish until conquered, after 
a most glorious but unfortunate contest, by Alexander the 
Great. 

The Phoenicians ventured into the Atlantic, along the 
coast of Europe, as far as Britain, and along the coast of 
Africa, as far as Madeira. — Tyre is now become a heap of 
ruins, visited only by the boats of a few poor fishermen. 
On the north side it has an old Turkish ungarrisoned 
castle, besides which you see nothing here but a mere 
Babel of ruins. Its present inhabitants are only a few poor 
fishermen, who seem to be preserved in this place, by 
divine Providence, as a visible argument how God hath 
fulfilled his word concerning Tyre. See Isaiah, xxiii., and 
EzEKiEL, xxvii. 

Note 23. 

So Carthage thought, the empress of the sea. 

One hundred and thirty-two years before the foundation 
of Rome, Carthage was founded on the northern coast of 
Africa, opposite to Sicily. It was situated at the bottom 
of a spacious bay, on a peninsula joined to the main land 
by an isthmus about three miles in breadth. The Byrsa, or 



200 NOTES. 

citadel, commanded the isthmus, and presented to this only 
entrance to the town, by land, a wall thirty feet thick and 
sixty feet high. The whole circumference of the place was 
about twenty miles. 

The all-vivifying principle of the Carthaginian republic, 
was commerce; war and conquest were to serve merely 
for its protection and enlargement. It aspired to the most 
extensive intercourse by land and by water; its fleets 
sailed through unknown seas; its caravans travelled 
through burning deserts. The security of its commercial 
routes, convenient marts, and more extensive intercourse, 
were the sole objects of its conquests, which were limited 
to coasts, and islands easy to be defended, and to isolated 
settlements. 

When the Carthaginians had surrendered three hundred 
of their noblest sons, as hostages, their vessels of war, their 
arms, elephants, and implements of war, and were finally 
commanded by the Roman Consuls to demolish their city, 
and build another ten miles from the sea, and without walls, 
they were seized with extreme desperation ; they resolved 
unanimously to save the city or to die. They shut the 
gates, stretched the chain which protected the entrance of 
the harbour, and made a collection of stones upon the bat- 
tlements; these being the only weapons they had left to 
repel the first attacks of the Romans. They demolished 
their houses to supply the docks with timber ; they opened 
the temples and other public buildings to accommodate the 
workmen ; and without distinction of age, sex, or condition, 
became labourers in the public works. They supplied the 
founders and the armourers with the brass and iron of their 



NOTES. 



201 



domestic utensils; or, where these metals were deficient, 
brought what they could furnish of silver and gold. They 
joined to the other materials which were used in their rope- 
ries their hair, to be spun into cordage for the shipping, and 
into braces for the engines of war. 

The helpless city held out heroically against legions ac- 
customed to victory, until the third year, when Scipio pene- 
trated by night into the last harbour ; the lower part of the 
city was taken; the upper city and the citadel did not 
yield : these Scipio stormfed seven days and seven nights ; 
blood flowed in all the streets, palaces, and houses. The 
Carthaginians continued to fight in wild desperation ; at 
last, when all hope was lost, they set fire to the city, killed 
themselves in their houses and temples, over the graves of 
their fathers. 

This magiiificent, immense, unfortunate city was burning 
seventeen days. Thus vanished from the earth, after they 
had fought vigorously with Rome one hundred and twenty 
years, the far-ruling commercial people of Carthage. 

Note 24. 

Her injured hero, and victorious son. 
The vindicating bolt, the scourging rod, 
Etruria owned and dreaded as a god. 

Hannibal was in the twenty-eighth year of his age when 
he undertook the invasion of Italy. With twenty thousand 
foot and six thousand cavalry, he descended the Alps. 
The Romans had a few years before mustered nearly 
eicht hundred thousand men. In the first three years 

18 



202 



NOTES. 



of the war he raised the reputation of Carthage to the 
greatest height, and procured to his country more allies, 
and more territory in Italy, than were left in the power of 
the Romans, together with Capua and other cities more 
wealthy than Rome itself, and surrounded with lands 
better cultivated, and with more resources ; and for sixteen 
years supported himself in Italy, by the sole force of his 
personal character and abilities, against the whole weight, 
institutions, resources, discipline, and national character of 
the Roman people. 

Note 25. 
Till yonder mounds with human blood were red. 

Within the limits of the town of Natchez are the sites of 
several ancient forts, and in Adams County many Indian 
mounds; these have almost invariably been found to be 
filled with human bones. 

Note 26. 

The Frenchman's vengeance and the nation's name. 

The Natchez tribe of Indians, the fairest, and farthest ad- 
vanced towards civilization of all the tribes north of Mexico, 
were exterminated by the French. 

Note 27. 

Then here, he cried, let Lexington proclaim, 
And Nature's self preserve the hallowed name 

Lexington, the seat of justice for the county of Fayette, 
was so called, to perpetuate the memory of the battle of 



NOTES. 203 

Lexington, immediately upon the reception there of the 
news of that important event. 

Note 28. 

To sink like Dudley to the shades of night. 

At the siege of Fort Maiden, Colonel Dudley was ordered 
to force one of the enemy's batteries, spike the guns, and 
then retire. The work, was gallantly carried, but the 
ardour of the men led them into an ambuscade, in which 
six hundred and fifty men, of eight hundred who stormed 
the work, were killed, and among them Colonel Dudley. 

Note 29. 

Such venerable Slielby led of yore. 

Isaac Shelby, a distinguished American revolutionary 
officer, was born December 11th, 1750, near Hagerstown, 
Maryland. After the surrender of Charleston, and the loss 
of the Southern army, 1780, he devoted himself to the military 
service of his country, and throughout the residue of the 
revolutionary struggle was actively engaged in fighting her 
battles in the South. For his conduct at the battle of King's 
Mountain, October 7th, 1780, he received a vote of thanks. 
and an elegant sword, from the Legislature of North Caro- 
lina. After the separation between Virginia and Kentucky, 
and the formation of a constitution for the latter State by a 
convention of which Colonel Shelby was a member, he 



204 



NOTES. 



was chosen Governor of Kentucky, in 1792. In 1813, 
being Governor of Kentucky, in the sixty-third year of his 
age, he marched at the head of four thousand volunteers of 
that State, to join General Harrison, who commanded the 
Northwestern army; and mingled in the fiercest of the 
fight at the battle of the Thames. General Harrison, in 
speaking of him in his official report of that battle, says, 
'' No eulogy of mine can meet his merits." 

Note 30. 

The Raisin's horrors, with its raging flames, 
When gallant Hart beneath the Indian fell. 

The Americans engaged in this battle (the battle of 
Frenchtown, upon the river Raisin) were principally vo- 
lunteers, from the most respectable families of Kentucky. 
After surrendering, under a promise of protection, they were 
left by Proctor to the mercy of the Indians, who set fire to 
the town, dragged the wounded from the houses, scalped 
and tomahawked them in the streets. The whole number 
killed and wounded was about five hundred; among the 
former was Captain N. Hart, of Lexmgton, who, being 
wounded, was murdered by the Indians, after the battle. 
The prisoners were about five hundred. 

Proctor was subsequently defeated, at the battle of the 
Thames ; his army was annihilated, Tecumseh killed, and 
he barely escaped with a few dragoons. The American 
officers and men engaged in this battle were principally 
from Kentucky. 



NOTES. 



Note 31. 



205 



Lo ! through yon aspens trembling in the air, 
The whitened walls that brightly glitter there. 

One of the most lovely and beautiful places in the vici- 
nity of Lexington, was the residence of William Morton. 
My earliest and happiest recollections are associated with 
this place. 

* Note 32. 

Say, dolh no tomb, no mausoleum rise, 
O'er thy fair field, to tell where Morton lies? 

William Morton, at an early period, moved from Carlisle, 
Pennsylvania, to Lexington, Kentucky, where he engaged 
in mercantile business, and by diligence, industry, and in- 
tegrity, that characterized the whole tenor of his life, he 
rose to rank, in wealth and influence, with the most worthy 
of her citizens. He was one of a few individuals who ori- 
ginated Transylvania University, by the purchase and ap- 
propriation of the lot on which the original building stood, 
for purposes of education. He was one of the principal 
contributors to the erection of the Episcopal church at Lex- 
ington, beneath which his remains repose. He bequeathed 
funds for the establishment of a public school in Lexington, 
which has been carried into successful operation. He lived 
to enjoy, to their full extent, the fruits of his labours, and 
passed from the stage of existence with the tranquillity of 
repose, finishing a life of exemplary usefulness, integrity, 
and philanthropy. 

18* 



206 NOTES. 



Note 33. 



The monument of Morrison's devise. 

That made those walls from smouldering ruins rise. 

The bequest of James Morrison to Transylvania Univer- 
sity, enabled the trustees, when the college was burned, in 
the summer of 1828, to erect the present stately and magni- 
ficent collegiate edifice that adorns the city of Lexington. 

Note 34. 
With Dudley's virtues, and thy Holley's name. 

Benjamin Dudley, Professor of Anatomy and Surgery, 
whose virtues and abilities have sustained the reputation 
and prosperity of the medical department of Transylvania 
University. 

Horace Holley, President of Transylvania University 
from 1819 to 1827, during which period this institution 
enjoyed great prosperity and celebrity. 

Note 35. 
Mysterious mounds amid the desert drear. 

Tumuli are scattered through the great valley of the Mis- 
sissippi. Those that have been examined have been found 
to contain human skeletons, trinkets, earthenware, stone 
hatchets, arrow-heads, &c. 

The Scythians buried their kings near where the Borys- 
thenes or Nieper begins to be navigable. When a king 
died, his body was cleansed, the bowels taken out, the 



NOTES. 207 

cavity filled with anise, paisley seed and bruised cypress, 
and various aromatics. It was then sewn up, inclosed in 
wax, placed upon a couch, and deposited in a quadrangular 
ditch : upon the whole were placed pieces of wood covered 
with branches of wiUow. In some other part of the trench 
they buried one of his concubines, whom they previously 
strangled, together with the baker, the cook, the groom, his 
most confidential servant, his horses, the choicest of his 
effects, and finally some golden goblets. They then filled 
up the trench with earth, and seemed emulous in their 
endeavours to raise as high a mound as possible. 

Note 36. 

Who erst o'er Asia with resistless force 
Poured the dark t'lrrent of their dreadful sway, 
Till trembling Egypt bought tiieir wrath away. 

The Scythians, having expelled the Cimmerians from 
Europe, found their way into Asia, and continuing to pursue 
the fugitives, arrived at the territories of the Medes, whom 
they in a fixed battle defeated and deprived of the empire 
of Asia. 

Having obtained possession of Asia, they advanced 
toward Egypt. Psammitichus, king of Egypt, met them in 
Palestine, and by presents and importunities united, pre- 
vailed on them to return. After possessing the dominion 
of Asia for a space of twenty-eight years, the Scythians lost 
all they had obtained, by their licentiousness and neglect. 
At a feast to which they were invited by Cyaxares and the 
Medes, the greater part of them were cut off" in a state of 
intoxication. 



208 NOTES. 

Note 37. 
Their widespread fragments strew the barren strand. 

The bones of the Mastodon, and other antediluvian re- 
mains, have been discovered in various parts of the western 
continent. 

In some places upon the northern coast of North America, 
the remains of the Mastodon or of the antediluvian elephant 
have been discovered in such great quantities as to be an 
article of traffic. 

Note 38. 

O, where the pride that Ethiopia owned, 
When Egypt saw her warlike kings enthroned. 

Ethiopian princes, vrhole dynasties, ruled over Egypt 
even to a short time before its subjugation by Persia. 

Note 39. 

The founders of her laws, religion, and her fame. 
Ere Egypt was, or yet without a name. 

It is difficult to discover, by the lights of ancient history, 
the origin, development and progress of art, science, and 
civilization, among the nations of remote antiquity. " But 
the literature of Greece is universally admitted to have been 
the parent of aU succeeding civilization and refinement, 
and it is w^ell known that the origin of all her greatness 
was referred to Egypt by Greece herself But Egypt is the 



NOTES. 



209 



child of a more eastern birth : Meroe claims her for her off- 
spring. But Meroe looks back to India, and there ac- 
knowledges the fountain head. To the same or a kindred 
source look also Persia and all the Eastern nations. Upon 
all of them India has stamped the impress of that character 
which was fostered and developed on the plains between 
the Indus and the Burrampootre, the Himmalayes and the 
Ganges." 

Note 40. 

And he whose sceptre swayed the world 
In sorrow turned to weep. 

Xerxes, while reviewing his army previous to its passing 
the Hellespont, was observed to weep. Being asked why 
he wept, he replied: '^I weep to think that not one of that 
immense multitude will be living at the expiration of a 
few brief years." 

Note 41. 
James Tooley. 

James Tooley, a native of Natchez, was endowed by 
nature with faculties which would have elevated him to 
eminence among artists. His miniature paintings were 
much admired, and he acquired more than ordinary cele- 
brity in his profession during his brief career. 



210 



NOTES. 



Note 42. 
The brjghtust genius, and the noblest boast. 

In the graveyard at New Haven, Connecticut, is a 
beautiful marble monument, with the following inscription: 

To the memory of 

John Ellis Duncan, 

A member of the Junior Class in 

Yale College. 

Born in Adams County, Mississippi, 

August 12th, 1812. 

Died September 13th, 1829. 

Duncan was a youth of great promise. Powers naturally 
strong, he cultivated with unwearied diligence, and attained 
to high distinction as a scholar. In disposition frank and 
amiable; inflexible in purpose; in morals pure; to his 
friends he was the object of univer.vrLl esteem, to his 
relatives, of the fondest hope. 

O fallacem hominum spem fragilemque fortimam et 
inanes nostras contentiones quae in medio spacio sepe 
franguntur et corruunt, et ante in ipso cursu obruuntur 
quam portum conspicere potuerunt. 

Note 43. 

And he, the wayward child of fancy. 

Becket Kempe, a native of Natchez, possessed a poetical 
genius, which gave him flattering prospects of literary dis- 
tinction; but he was untimely cut off in the bloom of life, 
by the cholera of 1832, at Brooklyn, New York. 



NOTES. 



Note 44. 



211 



His mouldering relics lie, who once could claim 
A flattering prospect in the path to fame. 

Three miles above Natchez, upon the brow of a bluff 
which commands a view of the Mississippi River for more 
than twenty miles, repose the remains of George Nevit, son 
of Captam John B. Nevit, a graduate of Princeton College, 
New Jersey. He died shortly after his return, of consumption, 
contracted by close application to his studies while at 
college. 



■^o^ 



Note 45. 

Yet shall the Bard. 

Dr. Peyton Johnson, " The Western Bard," whose poetical 
productions acquired for him an extensive literary reputa- 
tion in the West. 

Note 46. 

Colonel William Robertson M'Kee. 

General Taylor, in his report of the battle of Buena Vista, 
says: — "No loss falls more heavily upon the army in the 
field than that of Colonels Hardin and M'Kee, and Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Clay. Possessing in a remarkable degree the 
confidence of their commands, and the last two having en- 
joyed the advantages of a military education, I had looked 
particularly to them for support in case we met the enemy. 
I need not say their zeal in engaging the enemy, and the 



212 NOTES. 

cool and steadfast courage with which they maintained their 
positions during the day, fully realized my hopes, and caused 
me to feel yet more sensibly their untimely loss." 

Note 47. 

First Regiment of Mississippi Volunteers. 

In speaking of them, General Taylor says: — ''The Mis- 
sissippi Riflemen, under Colonel Davis, were highly con- 
spicuous for their gallantry and steadiness, and sustained 
throughout the engagement the reputation of veteran troops. 
Brought into action against an immensely superior force, 
they maintained themselves for a long time unsupported, 
and with heavy loss, and held an important part of the 
field until reinforced. Colonel Davis, though severely 
wounded, remained in the saddle until the close of the 
action. His distinguished coolness and gallantry at the 
head of his regiment on this day, entitle him to the par- 
ticular notice of the government." 

Note 48. 
The fame of th}' Fisk. 

The generous and liberal munificence of Alvarez Fisk, 
enabled the citizens of Natchez to establish their public 
schools, an institution which has been for several years in 
successful operation, dispensing the blessings of education 
to thousands. 

THE END. 



